Here is the Place Where I Love You
by Sacred'-'Harmony
Summary: The rebellion is over and life seemed to begin falling back into an order that Peeta and Katniss could handle. But they're both still healing and with their recovery comes things that they both must deal with. Nightmares, memories, feelings, and the fear of losing Peeta to flashbacks. At least they have each other.(Upcoming events that you won't want to miss. Please read & review!)
1. Nightmares: Just a Part of My Routine

I sat straight up, the bed springs groaning beneath me. My breathing came heavy, my long legs were tangled in a mess of sweaty sheets, and my groping fingers found no protective set of arms wrapped around me. I was alone. Just me and my nightmares.

They were the same every night. Well, almost the same. Every now and then, someone else from my past would find some way to haunt my thoughts, remind me of how I took their life. Weeks ago, it was Cato screaming at me in my sleep with blood trickling from his temple, the muttations creeping behind his broken body. Then it was Rue's family, weeping over the girl's flightless body and surrounded by mockingjays singing in unison, "You weren't quick enough to save her." Mags running into the fog, Wiress floating while her blood polluted the salty water, Boggs being blown to bits, Finnick's gurgling scream, Cinna's final glance at me through the glass that prevented my help.

Prim. She was in them every night. Although the images of Prim, standing before me with singed blonde hair, streaming tears, and her scorched shirt pulled out in a duck tail, were horrid, it was what she said and held in her hands that frightened me most. "The Girl on Fire let me burn," The Prim in my nightmares would repeat in a chant and she would approach me in a slow death march, her small scorched hands held out in front of her, offering me a gift. A curse. Something that reminded me of the man that took everything from me. A white rose.

Even Peeta found his way into my nightmares. Someone else that Snow took from me. Although nightmares of Peeta were never real, as the ones of former tributes and my sister were, they were just as frightening. And when I would wake in the morning, screaming his name, reaching out to find him beside me, he was never there. Not anymore.

A few months after Peeta returned to what was left of District 12, he began coming over at nights. At first, he would only stay for dinner. Then as time progressed, he would stay until I fell asleep and finally, I convinced him to spend the nights with me as we had on the train. The nightmares began to cease and on the rare occasions that they returned, I would awake and be comforted in his embrace. "Not real, Katniss." He would tell me.

His flashbacks had been gradually getting better. He was doing well, sensing when one was coming on and learning to control it. But late one night, after I had washed up for bed, I entered the room to find him already laying across the bed, his arms behind his head and his gaze on the ceiling. I didn't notice anything was wrong until it was too late. I had crawled into bed beside him and pulled the thin sheet up to my waist, turning to look at him. His eyes were dark. The blue in them were veiled by the lies that the Capitol had fed him, hijacked him with. "Peeta?" I had asked softly, my fingertips grazing his forearm. He snapped at my voice. Suddenly his hands, strong but ones that I had known to be soft and artistic, were snaked around my throat, increasing their force. "Peeta," I had choked out, my hands on top of his in a weak attempt to save myself. "This isn't real Peeta. Wake up. Wake up, Peeta. Come back to me," He didn't come back to me after that night. When he snapped out of it and realized what was happening, he was out the door and running from me. Each night I asked him over for dinner, he would refuse, tell me that he would be busy helping Thom.

Now, I had lost track of how many weeks it had been since I've spent more than five minutes with Peeta. I have fallen into a poor routine. Wake up screaming, take a long shower, get lost in the woods for the better of the day, come home to feed Buttercup scraps from leftovers, welcome Greasy Sae in to prepare dinner, and fall back into my nightmares.

I slid off of the bed and scavenged through my drawers for something to wear for the day. When I settled on a green t-shirt and tan shorts, I shuffled into the bathroom where I would take my long shower. Then I would get lost in the woods, feed Buttercup, visit with Sae, and fall back into my nightmares and wake again the next morning to do it all over again.


	2. We Can't Live For the Past

"Morning, Sae," I greeted as I hopped down the last step of the staircase. The old woman looked up from the dish towel she was wringing between her fingers.

"Morning, girl." Her smile was warm and her eyes were understanding. But there was something else that I saw in those gray eyes that I didn't like. Pity.

I didn't even mutter a goodbye when I grabbed my bow from the closet and walked out into the brisk morning spring air. Sae was used to it by now. My routine had become a part of her own. I still couldn't explain to myself why I brought my bow. I never hunted. I just sat out beneath the willow next to my lake, thinking, pondering. And sometimes even, although I hate to admit it, crying.

It was difficult, walking through the graveyard that was once my home. The dust and the ash never seemed to settle, even though it had been months since the bombing. Maybe even over a year by now. I kept no sense of time. I walked briskly, as I did every day, with my eyes high towards the sky so that if I wanted to, I could pretend that I was just walking to the Hob to trade a few squirrel hides that Gale and I had skinned. I could pretend that it was just a warm summer day and Prim was by the fence, milking Lady so that she could prepare some cheese for dinner, and mother was in our little house in the Seam, sorting through her collection of herbs.

But I couldn't. My creativity and imagination gets used up each night by my vivid nightmares. Besides, it didn't help to live in the past. Out of all of the things that Dr. Aurelius has told me over our scheduled phone calls, that was the one thing that stuck out to me. It was the one thing that I considered that he was right about.

I had finally reached the fence opening that Gale and I had slid beneath so many times to gather food for our families. I was about to crawl under when, "Hey, Katniss."

I looked up and directly into the eyes of the one person that I had ached to see. "Peeta?" I don't know why I asked because it was obviously him. If I couldn't imagine District 12 the way that it was way back when, then I certainly didn't believe that I could imagine Peeta and every exact detail of him.

"What are you doing here?" I didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation but I could see that it bothered him as he looked down.

"I was just out for a walk." He explained, lifting his shoulders up and letting them fall in a slight shrug.

"A walk in the forest?" He just nodded. "What made you want to take a stroll through the woods?" He raised his gaze to meet mine again.

"I don't know. You would always talk about how beautiful it was. How peaceful. I guess I just wanted to see if it was really all that you cracked it up to be," He smirked and ducked underneath the fence opening. I stepped back to let him through.

There was a moments silence before I spoke again. I hadn't seen him in so long and I didn't want to waste the few minutes that I would get to speak to him.

"How've you been?" I asked, looking him over. He still looked too thin.

"Better." He assured me, stopping to look down at my own state. I knew he wasn't just talking about his physical appearance. "How have _you_ been?" There was genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm surviving." It was honest enough, I suppose. I was doing well enough to get by. His eyebrows pulled together slightly.

"You look like hell, Katniss." His voice was softer when he spoke. I nodded. I'm sure I did. I don't think anybody could look halfway decent when they don't sleep or hardly eat.

"You know, that's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in a long time." That got a smile out of him.

I realized how much I had missed seeing that, although it wasn't quite the same. I wished he would just get over what happened and come around more.

"Maybe if you hung around more, I wouldn't be so bad off." I said and instantly regretted it. His smile fell and guilt replaced his expression.

"You know why I haven't, Katniss." He said.

"I do know why. But it was once, Peeta. That was the first time in months that you had an attack that bad."

"And it could happen again," He said a little louder. "Katniss, I tried to strangle you. Do you think I want to hurt you?"

"Peeta, I know you don't want to hurt me. It hurts not seeing you, though. I miss you," The words escaped my mouth. Realizing that it may have been too much, I recovered. "You're my only friend, Peeta."

He was shaking his head. "That's not true, Katniss. What about Sae? And Haymitch?"

I laughed once, humorlessly. "Yeah, because Haymitch and I really hit it off. Don't know what I'd do without him." The sarcasm in my voice was like venom. I liked Haymitch, I really did. And maybe he was my friend. But he and I were so much alike that we butted heads every time we were in the presence of one another.

There was a brief silence, both of us considering the other's side.

"Look, you don't have to come over at nights. You don't have to come over for dinner. But please don't shut me out completely." I pleaded. I wasn't one for begging, but he had to realize that I was still recovering too. And I couldn't do it without him.

He tried to avert his eyes, avoid looking into mine. But even without looking at me, he could hear the desperation in my voice.

"Alright, Katniss." He sighed in defeat. "But it won't be like before. Not until I'm sure that I won't lose it again."

He and I both knew that he would lose it again, whether it was just a simple passing episode where he had to leave the room for a minute or one like the last one. What he really meant was, "Not until I'm sure that I can control it." And I didn't know how possible that was either. But it was good enough for me.

"It doesn't have to be like before. Just as long as we can spend a little time together. I could use a little something extra in my routine," I said with a smile.

The smile returned to his face. "I was just going to look over some of my old paintings. Dr. Aurelius sent them in this morning. Said it would be good to try and tell which of them are real and which of them aren't." He paused for a moment before continuing hesitantly. "You want to come with me?"

Even if he had asked me to help him bake or paint some tiny cupcake with a frosted flower, I would have said yes. Anything to drag myself out of my current state of despair and get back into my life with Peeta. "I'd love to," I told him, setting my bow down at the edge of the fence and trusting that it would still be waiting there for me tomorrow.

After all, tomorrow would be a new day. And as Dr. Aurelius' voice claimed through the phone, "We can't live for the past."


	3. Being Stubborn Has Never Helped Me More

Everything felt wrong. But maybe it was only because it was different. Two months ago, I would have walked right into Peeta's house without a second thought, as he never kept it locked. Now, I stood behind him as he twisted the knob.

The living room was tidy, which was rather unusual. Instead of being displayed messily on the table, his paints were tucked neatly away on the corner bookshelf. Framed photographs lined the wall that lead into the kitchen. The couch cushions were in their places and not sunken in, which implied that Peeta had finally taken to sleeping in his bed.

At least one thing remained: Peeta's house smelled like flour and warm cinnamon. I followed him inside and he flicked on the flight, my hunting boots clicking on the hardwood floor that shined, telling me that it had been recently mopped.

"Has Sae been over?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Peeta turned around. "She hasn't visited for a few weeks. Her granddaughter comes by sometimes, though." I sighed, relieved that he didn't catch on to what I had really been asking.

"I, uh… Really like what you've done with the place."

His smile said it all. He knew that I had been hinting about the cleaning. "Well, I've got to have something do in the evenings."

That panged a little bit, knowing that he would rather clean his house than visit me. But I brushed it off. "Don't you paint anymore?"

He started walking down the left hallway. "Nothing's inspired me enough to paint for a while," I followed him slowly, my arms folded in front of me. I was reminded of when I was a small child, before Prim was born, and my mother would take me along to houses of her patients when they were too ill to travel. Being in a stranger's house. That's exactly how I felt.

"In here," He called and a light came on in the last room of the hallway. I rounded the corner and before my eyes were the paintings that Peeta had showed me during the Victory Tour, accompanied by some new portraits that weren't familiar to me.

The uncomfortable feeling that I carried before melted away as I approached one of the paintings. Particularly the one that Peeta painted representing the water. The dripping water in our cave during our first Hunger Games. I was reminded that the real Peeta painted this, before the Capitol obscured his memories.

"You've seen these before," Peeta broke the silence. "Real or not real?" I realized that this was the beginning of his quizzing.

"Real," I answered before countering it. "Well, I've seen most of them. Some of these, I've never seen before. You must have painted them when…" My voice trailed because I wasn't sure how to word what I was trying to say.

"When my mind was still set on killing you." He finished, almost in a whisper.

"Peeta," I was about to begin my argument, assuring him that it wasn't him that wanted to kill me. That it wasn't real.

He cut me off before I could continue. "That one," He nodded towards the painting that I stood before. "That was in the cave."

He didn't need to ask for me to answer, "Real."

"That's where we stayed after you found me," I nodded and he nodded in response, a look of concentration shining through his eyes.

It took him longer to ask the next one. "That's where you tricked me," He stated, staring at the ground, his mouth set. "You gave me something to make me sleep."

I was worried now, worried that he was losing himself. Although it was true, I was concerned that in confirming it, it would set him off into a hijacked flashback. I didn't answer.

His eyes snapped up to me. "Real or not real?" He demanded. His eyes were still blue, but his reaction scared me.

After a moment, I answered. "Real." I watched him carefully, taking note of how his eyes momentarily darkened. "But Peeta, I only did it to-"

"To save me. I know." His hands were clenched in white-knuckled fists. He was warding off the flashback. His eyes were blue.

I waited, watching him. Slowly, he raised his head and moved on to the next painting as if nothing had happened.

He stopped before a painting that I did not recognize, although I knew exactly what it was. There was a large moon in the corner of the canvas that shown down onto what seemed to be a rippling lake. At the edge of the lake, just at the edge of the shore, sat two figures with their backs turned to the viewer. They were so close that they almost appeared connected, although you could tell the immediate differences in figures. One was reasonably taller with a head full of sandy blonde hair. The shoulders were broad and the torso was wrapped in a forest green top. The smaller one had a slight figure, dressed in red, with a dark braid that fell down its back.

It was unmistakably us, sitting on the shore during the Quarter Quell. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn with the memory of what took place in that exact spot. Peeta stepped forward as if to get a closer look.

"Real or not real?" I didn't have to clarify what he was asking. He wanted to know if it happened. If we sat there, just as he had painted. If we kissed there, just as I recently remembered.

"Real," I confirmed, stepping up beside him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his body turn in my direction. I looked over to meet his gaze.

"Real or not real?" He asked once more, quieter, deeper. I stared at him for a moment, knowing what he was asking but not wanting to answer. Was that kiss real? Or was it part of my act? I considered it, going back to the warm spark that raced through my veins and bubbled in my stomach that night. The hunger that I had never felt before, and I was a girl from District 12, where hunger was a common thing to know. It was a different kind of hunger.

I lowered my eyes, no longer able to look into his. He was awaiting my answer. "Katniss…"

I closed my eyes. "Real." I whispered, allowing the word to linger and set in.

It was silent after that, all except Peeta's breathing beside me. I don't know how long I sat there, immobile with my eyes tightly shut. It seemed like a lifetime before I heard him move beside me.

"Come on," He said in a normal, steady voice. His heavy footsteps fell behind me as he exited the room. I allowed my eyelids to flutter open and fixed my gaze on the painting once more. That boy never ceased to amaze me, the way he could capture something in his mind and let his paints recreate it so that all could see. I stood there, staring at the two figures that we once were, and allowed myself to miss the way we used to be.

"Katniss?" His voice carried down the hallway. When I followed his voice to the kitchen, I halted. Peeta stood next to the counter, examining a small box, pinching a card between his fingers. "Looks like Dr. Aurelius sent something for you, too."

I stepped forward. "What would he send to me?" I wondered aloud, my fingers replacing Peeta's on the card that had been taped to the box.

"Katniss," It read. "I know you didn't request these but I sent them anyway in hopes that they might help both you and Peeta with your recovery. When the time comes, you may put them to use, but only when you feel that you two are ready." Beneath Dr. Aurelius' message was an underlined demand, "Call soon," followed by his signature.

"What do you think it is?" Peeta wondered, taking a seat on the barstool behind the counter.

"Who knows? Maybe some kind of Capitol drug," I offered as an idea. But then why would he include, "only when you feel that you two are ready?" Are you ever really ready to pop some kind of colorful Capitol pill that makes you forget to care about anything other than which way is up and which is down?

I sighed, taking the box under my arm. I guess I would find out what it was soon enough. "I guess I better get going," I said, looking out of his kitchen window at the darkening sky. "Wouldn't want to let the cat starve," I teased as I turned towards the living room.

He laughed softly and stood, following me to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?" I hoped, my back still turned to him.

"Tomorrow." He agreed and I let the door swing in. I didn't turn around until he called, "Katniss?"

"Yeah?" I looked over my shoulder.

He hesitated in the doorway. "Thank you,"

I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For being more stubborn than I am." He explained with a small smile. I laughed, knowing he was talking about our argument at the wood's edge. It was a good thing I was stubborn. Otherwise, Peeta and I would still be in the situation we were yesterday. Apart with no intent of seeing one another.

"Anytime," I called back to him, my hunting boots crunching over the hard dirt and rocks that separated our houses.

**As a first author's note, I want to take the time to thank all of my readers so far. I do hope that you enjoy the story and if not, I apologize and look forward to some suggestions from you. I want to give a very big thank you to sugarangelcookies for being my very first reviewer and also for offering kind compliments. Reviews mean everything. :) **

**This is my very first story here on fanfiction so I'm still learning the ropes and I do want to throw in a quick disclaimer, although it should be obvious that I don't own the Hunger Games. I am simply a fan that wanted more after the last book ended.**

**If you have an idea, event, or just something that you'd like to see between characters in mind, please let me know by all means. I would love suggestions.**


	4. Ignorance is Bliss

_Bam, bam, bam._ I shot up in bed, alarmed and alert. _Bam, bam, bam. _I rolled my eyes and kicked the sheets from my legs. "It's just the door, Katniss. You're paranoid." I thought to myself.

My bare feet padded down the hallway as I adjusted my shorts that had hiked up my thighs during my nightly thrashing. Who would be knocking on the door at this hour? It wasn't very light in the house, which hinted that it must be before 8:00. It could have been Sae, but she's been walking right into the house in the mornings for months, so why would she start knocking now?

I reached the tall door and flung it open, a small grin on my face as I wondered if it might have been Peeta. The grin slid right off my face. "Mornin', sweetheart."

Haymitch didn't bother waiting for my word to allow him in. He just pushed right past me and the stench of alcohol that rolled from his breath about knocked me over. That's when I noticed the open bottle of rum sloshing around in his hand.

I pushed the door shut and turned around to face him, my arms folded across my chest. He was stumbling in the middle of the room, looking left and right as if he had never been in my house before.

"You're up early," I shot at him.

He spun on his heel, holding his unoccupied hand out to steady himself. "So are you, I see." He shot back, looking me over once. "At least you don't look like the walking dead anymore."

"So I've been told," I said, walking forward and bumping his shoulder as I passed. He stumbled and started after me. "Why are you here?" I inquired, going straight to the counter to pour me a glass of water.

"Oh," He drawled, slamming his liquor down on the counter. "Just thought I'd stop by for a friendly visit."

I laughed without humor. "Friendly visit? You and I?" I feigned disbelief in my voice.

He smiled. It was a love-hate relationship between Haymitch and I. "Actually, I'm here to see if you got your tapes yet."

Tapes? My eyebrows knitted together. "What tapes?"

"You know, from the doc. Told me he'd sent 'em when he called last night."

I held the glass of water to my lips and it stayed there for a moment. I sat it back down on the counter after a minute of thinking. The box.

I walked around the counter and by Haymitch to the living room and right to the loveseat, where I had carelessly tossed the box that I had received yesterday. After getting home, I had lost all interest and curiosity in it and just headed upstairs to bed.

Now, I sat down next to it and peeled open the top, revealing two smaller black boxes with gold lettering.

The top one read, "The 74th Hunger Games" and sent a fit of shivers down my spine. I stared at the tape without really seeing it. Why would they send these tapes to me? What made them think that I wanted to re-live that?

What was it that the note had said last night? "I sent them in hopes that they might help both you and Peeta with your recovery." Sometimes Dr. Aurelius said some things that I didn't quite follow or maybe just didn't want to consider. But this just made me question his sanity.

I dropped the tape in disgust and spun to face Haymitch. "You told him to send these?"

He came closer to see over the top of the loveseat. "I _suggested_ it a while back. Guess the doc thought it'd be a good idea."

Anger bubbled inside of me. "And what made either of you think that _this_," I threw my arms over in a gesture to the tapes. "Would be a good idea?"

"Look, Katniss," Haymitch began, slumping over the edge of the sofa. "Juss thought that maybe, when the time comes, you two could look through these tapes. Probably help the boy more than you. But the doc thought it might help him more if you were watchin' with him. Be there to assure him that what he sees on the tape is real. Remember, the last time the boy saw these, he was being injected with tracker-jacker venom. He doesn't have a clear memory of what really happened during the games."

I stood up off of the loveseat. "He won't do it. He won't spend any more time with me like that. Peeta won't do anything that might trigger another flashback," I was ranting off, shaking my head.

Haymitch took a long swig from the bottle before running the back of his hand over his mouth and asking, "Have you seen him lately?"

I just nodded, looking down. When he didn't say anything, I realized that he was expecting a better answer from me. "I went over yesterday. We looked over his old paintings together."

There was a smile tugging at the corners of Haymitch's cracked red lips. "Well, it's about time."

"What are you talking about?"

He laughed. "You just don't get it, do you girl?"

"Don't get what? What are you rattling about, Haymitch?" My temper was hiking again. This man really knew how to tick me off.

"You know damn well what I'm talkin' about. That boy's been struggling for the past month, and what have you done? Sat out in those trees and forgotten the rest of the world," His words hit me harder than they should have.

"What was I supposed to do? He's the one that would refuse to see me!"

"He was keepin' his distance. Didn't wanna blow up like he did." Haymitch reasoned. "He was protecting you. But you should have made an effort, talked him into coming around sooner than yesterday. You may not be the one for words but you're the only one that kid listens to. He needed you. He needs you just as much as you need him."

I opened my mouth to deny it. Haymitch cut me off before I got a word out, though. "You can't deny it every time, Katniss. You feel for that boy. Not all of that was fake in the arena. You know it as well as I do,"

For a moment, I just stood there, staring him down. Finally, I just shook my head and looked away. Haymitch's chuckle was quiet.

"Hell, if you're that good of an actress, I oughtta get ya a spot in that drama that Panem plays every Thursday evening." Those were his departing words until he reached the door. I still hadn't moved from my place.

"You're the most selfish thing I know if you plan to keep on taking everything that kid has to offer and not giving anything in return." _Slam._ The force of Haymitch shutting the door rattled the nearby window.

I stood there for a while, boiling in my own anger. Was I mad at Haymitch? Yes, but not nearly as much as I thought I would be. Was I upset about the recent conversation? Of course I was. But the thing that was really bothering me was that Haymitch was right.

I don't know that he was right about everything he said. But I did know that I was selfish. Extremely so. Peeta has always been there, backing me up. Supporting me in every way, shape, and form. He gave me everything he had when he loved me. And I played along, lead him on, all to keep the audience content and give us some chance of surviving the wrath of the Games. The wrath of the Capitol.

But the Games are long gone. I ensured that when I sent that arrow blazing through Coin's cold heart. And the Capitol, it isn't the same. The Capitol is no longer set out for our deaths. So what was it now that I wanted from Peeta?

"That boy needs you as much as you need him." Did I need Peeta? "No," I wanted to tell myself. But I sat on the edge of the sofa and went back to a time in District 13, in the heat of the rebellion. I was without Peeta. And miserable. There was a constant ache that followed me and a pain when he was in the same room, sitting in a chair next to an interviewer with blue eyeliner, so close that I could reach up and touch him on the television set and yet, so many miles away.

Then I was taken back to only a few days previous, when I was sitting beneath the willow in the woods as I did on a daily basis. I was crying, but not for my usual reasons. I wasn't weeping for the people that were lost because of me; I wasn't shedding tears while thinking of Prim and all of the things that we didn't get to say. I was crying for Peeta. I was crying for all of the moments that would be lost between us, for the possibility of never having him to confide in, for the thought that the Capitol couldn't completely break me by taking Peeta, but that Peeta himself could break me by removing himself from me.

Did I need Peeta? Yes. I needed Peeta but would never admit it. And that was selfish as well. But did I need Peeta in the way that he needed me? That was a question for another day, to be answered another time, but it was also a question that I feared. Once I answered that question for myself, there would be no going back to ignoring my feelings. I preferred staying in the shadows, not allowing myself to embrace emotion because if you don't feel, you can't get hurt. For a girl that has lost almost everything that she loves, it is better to live without feeling. After all, what was it that mother told me when I once asked how she dealt with the death of a patient that she had worked so hard to save?

"Ignorance is bliss, Katniss."

**Just a reminder to all my readers: Please, please, please review! Reviews are what keep me going. And, this being my first story, it's really nice to have some feedback. Thanks to all, once again, and I can't wait to see what you have to say about the story so far.**


	5. The Past, the Present, and the Question

"Peeta!" I would scream into the lonely morning air when I was finally brought back to reality. Since the morning that Haymitch came over for a "friendly visit" and I had discovered those tapes, nightmares about Peeta were becoming more popular.

Sometimes I dreamt of Peeta suffering another flashback and it was like I could almost feel his fingers enclosing around my neck. Often times when I would travel into the bathroom to take a shower, I would search in the mirror for bruises in the shape of his long fingers. I would never find any.

Other times, my nightmares were filled with memories of the Games. Memories that my deepest fears would attack; distorting and construing them into alternate endings that frightened me.

Once, before bolting upright in bed, I was returning to the cave that Peeta and I had shared after I had gone down to the cornucopia to retrieve the medication for his leg. But as I approached the cave, struggling to see it through the blood trickling down my temple and the dim moonlight, I realized that the rocks had fallen, caved in. Crushed Peeta.

In another nightmare, Peeta and I were standing at the edge of the lake with the nightlock berries clutched between our fingers. "One," I had said. "Two," Peeta continued. "Thr-" And then the voice that we had been so desperate to hear cut me off. I was ecstatic with the thought that we were both going home, together. I turned to face Peeta with a wide smile and met his frightened eyes. His face had lost all color. "What is it, Peeta?" I had asked, concerned. He said nothing, simply lifting his empty hand for my eyes to see. It was then that I noticed the purple juice that slid down the corner of his bottom lip. He had eaten the berries.

I wondered if this was what it was like for Peeta. My nightmares messed with my memories and the venom tampered with his.

Lately, Peeta has been progressing well with his recovery though. At least, as far as I can tell. He still calls Dr. Aurelius in the evenings, something that I haven't done in weeks. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to avoid his calls much longer though. At some point, I would have to pick up the receiver and listen to his latest advice. But I'm afraid that if I talk to him now, I might call him nasty things for sending me those tapes.

Those tapes. Since I opened the box, I hadn't touched them until one night, I didn't even want them in my house. Afraid that they might find their way back into my life. My nightmares. Well, I suppose I was a little too late in disposing of them.

Now, they sit on top of the toolbox in the shed, collecting dust. I still haven't told Peeta about them and I don't plan to in the near future. I know that he would want to follow Dr. Aurelius' prescription, thinking that it might help, just as that foolish alcoholic next door believes. But Peeta isn't ready.

I'm not ready. Maybe that's what's holding me back. I don't want to watch my nightmares on a screen while I'm awake. I already live them in my sleep. The day is my escape.

It's my time to escape with Peeta. He still comes around, although the time we spend together is more carefully planned and even has a curfew. After about a week of reviewing paintings and walking up and down the short stripped road of Victor's Village, we decided that we needed something else to do.

I began allowing him to tag along with me when I would go into the woods. Sometimes we would spend only a few minutes, listening to the birds chirp and the frogs croak near the stream. Other times, we would sit for hours. Just sit. Peeta still asked me when he wondered if something was real but that game had slowly died down after our awkward quizzing with the paintings. He knew that it had made me uncomfortable.

Today, however, he had asked me to take a walk into town with him, instead of going into the woods. He explained to me that he wanted to remember what it was like before the bombing. So, even though it might dig up things that I wasn't yet ready to confront, I agreed to accompany him.

Walking through my house this morning was different. Once I was washed up, dressed, and ready, I headed downstairs to an empty kitchen. I had told Sae to take the day off, insisted that I could certainly fend for myself for a day. She huffed and said, "Good, maybe I'll take to cleaning up Mr. Abernathy's place. I can't stand the stench any longer," And with that, she had been out the door and crunching along to Haymitch's house.

I raised my fist to Peeta's door and gave it three small taps. He was there and joining me out on the porch in no time. We began with our daily greeting of, "Good morning, Peeta. How did you sleep?" He would nod and answer, "Fine, thanks. And you?" Although today, his voice seemed more strained.

I could feel his blue eyes watching me as I answered my automatic, "Fine." He suddenly stopped walking. I turned around. "What?"

"I wish you would just tell me." He said.

"Tell you what?"

"It's okay to talk about things that are bugging you, Katniss. I do it all the time," Peeta was always scolding himself for sitting down with me and gushing what was on his mind. He would complain, claiming that it had taken up all our time together. But I didn't mind it at all.

"Nothing's bugging me." I responded immediately.

He lowered his eyes to the ground, as if considering whether or not he should say something. Finally, he admitted, "I can hear you, Katniss. All the way from my place. I keep my windows open at night."

I realized then that he was talking about my screaming in the mornings. I flushed red, knowing that it was his name that I yelled and wondered what that meant to him. I didn't want him to think that I was afraid of him.

I recovered quickly and started walking towards town again. "They're just nightmares, Peeta. You know what that's like."

He was catching up behind me. "I do know what that's like. But that doesn't mean you have to keep them to yourself."

Yes I did. These ones I had to keep to myself. If I told him what they were about and how horrible it was to wake up alone in the mornings to deal with them, he would feel guilty. He would beat himself up for not being there.

"Are they really that bad?" He was whispering now. I hadn't noticed that I'd stopped walking.

"Sometimes," I allowed.

He didn't pry anymore after that. He just began walking, weaving around remains of buildings, over fallen trees or large piles of ashes. Every once in a while, he would ask me a question, pointing in a direction to confirm that it was where that place was located. We were nearing his family's old bakery when I suggested we head towards the Seam, in fear that it might be too much for Peeta to handle.

We had woven around the Hob and taken a moment to stop by the Undersee home where I pushed back a stab of pain at the thought that Madge was buried somewhere in those ashes. Or even part of the ashes herself.

Tears stung my eyes when we reached my old home. The house that I shared memories long gone with my father and mother and Prim. I even missed that ugly old goat.

I had to avert my eyes when it became too much. Peeta didn't say anything, didn't ask any questions. He simply grabbed my hand, a gesture that he hadn't offered in such a long time, and pulled me along.

I didn't look up again until some short time later when Peeta stopped. I looked up and recognized the small corner where Gale's house once sat. It was silent and eerie.

Peeta just watched me as I stared into the ashes and planks of charred wood that hadn't been completely burnt through. After what seemed like a long while, he looked up and spoke in a whisper.

"You loved him, real or not real?" In his voice, I could hear defeat. It didn't sound like a question at all. It was sullen, like he already knew the answer and just wanted it confirmed. I turned to look at him, hoping his eyes would tell me what he was thinking. But he kept them away and down, not willing to look at me when I answered.

I stared at Peeta for a moment, trying to read him. He was obviously bothered, but why? Why did this boy in front of me make it seem like it would be the end of the world if from my lips came the word, "Real" and I admitted to loving Gale? The Capitol had erased all feelings that he had for me, layered them in hatred, lies, and pain. I hoped like no other that he would just turn towards me so that I could see his eyes. Those blue eyes gave so much away. I then realized that he may have been taking my prolonged silence as a confirmation to part of his false belief.

"Not real, Peeta." I whispered back, watching him intently as he finally began to turn in my direction. His eyebrows were pulled together as if he was confused.

"Katniss, I didn't ask you that for you to jump up and deny it just to make me feel better." He informed, allowing his entire body to turn in my direction now. "I want a real answer. It doesn't-"

"Peeta," My hand had worked on its own to reach up and cover his mouth. "I gave you a real answer. I don't love him, Peeta. I never have. Gale and I, we were never meant to be anything more than friends. Gale was somebody that I could rely on to have my back in the woods, help me track the game. Bring food home to my family when I couldn't. And he knew that he could rely on me for the same. The Capitol couldn't have been more right when they assumed that we were cousins."

At first, I wondered why I had just wasted my breath in explaining my relationship with Gale because Peeta stared at me blankly, as if my words were just floating in the air around him like the ashes. Then he closed his eyes.

"Peeta?" I questioned hesitantly. He didn't move a muscle and suddenly, I found myself worrying that I had sent him into another flashback. "Peeta, open your eyes." I demanded.

At first, he didn't do as I had asked. Then, gradually, his eyelids flitted open. He gazed into my own. Blue on gray. A small grin was forming on his lips.

"That's all I needed to hear," He reached out and took my hand in his and, without another word, he continued walking down the length of the black road, our feet crunching over our memories and our past.


	6. Baby Steps

_Ring, ring, ring._

"Katniss, you know you have to answer it at some point." Peeta tried to reason beside me. We were sitting out on the front steps of the porch, basking in the setting evening sun, listening to the telephone ring off the hook from inside.

_Ring, ring, ring._ "At some point, yes. Not today." Was my reply. _Ring, ring, ring._ Ugh, I wish that guy would just give it a rest. The high-pitched dinging from the phone was giving me a headache.

When we were finally sitting in silence again, Peeta spoke up. "Why won't you take the doctor's calls?" He repositioned himself on the stair so that his artificial leg was propped slightly. I imagined it was uncomfortable to sit in one position for too long with that thing.

I just shrugged. "I just don't feel like having the same conversation as last week. And the week before that. It's always the same questions and until my answers change, I don't really feel the need to pick up." It was true in the sense that Dr. Aurelius always wanted to know the same things about me and my lifestyle. But it wasn't necessarily why I was avoiding him.

I didn't want to talk about those tapes and I knew that would be what our conversation would be centered around. Not a word more had been said about those revolting things since a couple of weeks ago, on the night that I had discovered them. Peeta still had no idea.

"Well, I wish you would just answer sometimes because he asks me how you're doing when he calls my place. How am I supposed to tell him anything? You don't say anything to me either, Katniss."

I could almost pick out the desperation in Peeta's voice and I could definitely feel the annoyance and disappointment when he talked about it. He claimed that I held too much in and that it was screwing with my health.

"Do you not trust me?" He suddenly asked and I turned to face him. "Of course I trust you, Peeta. What kind of question is-"

"Do you not feel comfortable around me?" His next question cut me off. I stared at him for a moment, debating on how to answer. "Peeta, you know that I'm comfortable being around you."

A soft smile touched his lips before he inquired, "Well then why can't you talk to me? You know I'll listen, Katniss." His voice was softer now, pleading.

We sat there for a minute, just looking at one another. "Peeta," I hesitated, my frustration with myself growing. "I know that you would listen, I know that you'd be there to help. I just, well, I don't know what to say. Or more that I don't know how to say things. You've always been the one that's good with words and voicing opinions. Me, I've never been good at expressing emotions or telling people how I feel." There was a frown etched on my lips.

I waited for him to say something. In his eyes, I could see a question growing and he looked up at me for a split second, as if he was about to ask. Then he looked down, shaking his head. Probably thinking better of it.

"That's okay, Katniss. I guess I can understand that, of all people." That was all he said while he looked down at his hands in his lap. What did he mean by that?

I couldn't help but feel bad as I watched him and told myself that he was only trying to help and I was shutting him out. Again. "I'm sorry…" I muttered, scooting closer to him so that I could lay a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me and there was a small grin on his face, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry about it." He stood up then, after a short struggle to his feet.

"Come on," He said to me and turned to face me. His hand was out, offering its assistance. I took it without hesitation and Peeta pulled me up to my feet. But after I was up, he didn't release my hand.

He stood there for a moment, just looking down at me with unspoken words on his lips. It took me to say something for him to even blink.

"Where are we going?" I asked softly. He cleared his throat and dropped my hand, turning his head to look out across the street.

"I was thinking that maybe we could go see what Sae was cooking for supper," I knew my dull gray eyes lit up at that thought.

"Does that mean you'll stay for dinner?" My hopeful question came out more rushed than I had anticipated.

Peeta chuckled softly. "I'll think about it." But I knew that meant yes.

The house felt cold after sitting out in the warm sun for hours on end. Peeta had insisted that we just take a day to spend walking around Victor's Village. He claimed that he was tired and didn't feel up to walking to the woods, but I knew that he was still upset. Our stroll through the ruins of the town the other day took a toll on him. Peeta tried to hide it, but I saw his new additions to his paint gallery.

"Something smells good," Peeta said loudly and purposefully so that Sae would hear. Her figure appeared from around the corner, a smile spreading across her face. "Ah, my favorite boy in Victor's Village. I knew you couldn't resist my cooking for long."

Peeta laughed softly. "You know me too well, Sae." I watched him disappear into the kitchen while I took my usual seat on the far left cushion of the sofa. From the other room, I could hear Sae rummaging through the cabinet for another set of eating utensils and Peeta laughing in intervals at things she must have said.

I realized that I hadn't heard Peeta laugh this much since…well, it must have been about the time of the Quarter Quell. It was good to feel like I played a small part in his happiness.

Then, _ring, ring, ring!_ I let my head fall against the top of the sofa. "Not again," I whispered to myself, squeezing my eyes shut tight.

I could hear Peeta's footsteps and I looked up to see him leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of him, and an expecting look on his face.

"Alright," I grumbled, jumping up. "Don't give me that look. I'll talk to him, okay?" Peeta watched me as I stalked over to the small nightstand and snagged the phone up in my hand.

"Hello?" I could hear my own voice echo back to me through the receiver.

"Katniss?" It was not the voice that I had been expecting to hear on the other end. There was a short silence before I responded with my own question.

"Mom?" My eyes flashed up to meet Peeta's momentarily. He just smiled and turned on his heel to return to the kitchen.

"I've been trying to call for days," My mother's voice responded. "I've been worried sick, Katniss. Why haven't you been taking my calls?"

I sighed. "Because I thought you were Dr. Aurelius," I wanted to say but didn't. "Sorry, I've just been…" There was a slight pause in continuing my sentence. "Busy." I decided that was enough of an excuse.

"Oh," She said. "I know how that is."

"How have things been going with the hospital?" I questioned, twirling the cord of the phone between my fingers.

"Oh, it's coming along. District four has been a nice place to stay," She hinted. I bit my bottom lip as I was reminded of it, my own mother living thousands of miles away. I knew it was because she had to escape this place, but sometimes, although I knew it wasn't true, it felt as if she was running away from me.

When I didn't say anything, she surprised me with, "I miss you, Katniss."

"Miss you too, Mom." I replied and asked, "Do you think you'll visit?"

I knew the answer because, like the conversations with Dr. Aurelius, it was the same, staged response. "Soon, Katniss. Soon."

But I knew what that really meant. Then I could hear her talking urgently with another person, most likely a fellow medical figure. "Katniss, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to go."

"I'll call again soon. Take care." She said before reminding me, "I love you."

I nodded against the phone. "You too, Mom." And the phone went dead. I laid the phone gently back into its place and, without confronting Sae or Peeta, retreated to my room. I let the door click closed behind me and walked into the bathroom.

Trying my best to avoid seeing myself in the mirror, I turned the water on and let it run over my arms. Then, after a while, I began scooping the water up in my hands and splashing it over my face. It calmed me down, distracted my mind. I was willing myself to forget about my situation with my mother. Thinking of her made me feel abandoned. Thinking of her made me think of Prim.

"Katniss?" His voice called from outside my bedroom door. I shut the water off and snagged a rag from the rack next to the shower.

"Katniss, can I come in?"

It took me a moment to respond, "Yes." It was so quiet that I was surprised that Peeta had heard it. The door creaked open softly and he peered around it.

Slowly, I walked toward him. "Are you alright?" He asked me, letting the door fall open the rest of the way. In response, I fell into him, burying my face in his chest. His strong arms linked around me in surprise.

The way he held me felt almost foreign. It had been so long since I had resulted in seeking for his comfort like this. In fact, this was the closest we had been to each other in many weeks, maybe even months.

He didn't ask me what was wrong. He didn't request that I talk about it. He just held me, rubbing my back rhythmically in a soothing pattern, before he leaned down to whisper to me.

"I came up to tell you that dinner is ready," He said and pulled back slightly to look at me. I nodded, returning his gaze.

"Hey," He said suddenly with a grin. "Put a smile on your face. Everything will be okay."

I tried my best to do as he asked. "Promise?" I questioned, surprised to hear my own voice and realize that it was returning to its normal state.

His smile widened. "I promise." Peeta released me then and said, "Now, come on. Let's eat. Sae's been slaving over that hot stove for hours to put a good meal on the table."

We were almost to the bottom of the stairs when I heard that voice. "Got enough for one more, Sae?"

Haymitch. As if I didn't have enough problems as of the moment. Then he was there, staring at us as we filed down the staircase. My steps were more delayed than before.

Haymitch stood up straight without a slouch or a shuffle in his footsteps. His hands were folded in front of him casually. I could tell that he hadn't been drinking, and that scared me. A drunk Haymitch, I could handle. It was the sober Haymitch that I was frightened to confront. Especially because it meant that when we got into our arguments, his piercing words were nothing but true, not influenced by his alcohol.

He eyed us carefully and when I met his gaze, he smiled, nodded to Peeta, and raised an eyebrow. I glared at him. "Well, well, well," He said, taking a step back. "Pardon me if I was interrupting something."

"Shut up, Haymitch. He came to tell me that dinner was ready," I snapped at him, standing on the bottom stair. I didn't want to walk by him just yet, afraid that I'd lunge for him or something.

"Well, I can see that you still haven't forgiven me. Some things just never change, do they, sweetheart?" His calm and casual tone just angered me even more. I had no patience for his smart comments.

"Leave her alone, Haymitch." I was surprised to hear those words come from Peeta's mouth as he walked by Haymitch. As I followed him into the kitchen, I took note of the four set places at the table.

Sae had prepared a new dish tonight. I wasn't sure what to make of it at first as I watched her dish up a serving of rice topped in a sauce, or stew you might call it, with various seeds, a kind of green vegetable, and the meat of a wild bird that I had brought home yesterday evening. I'd say it quickly became our new favorite, though.

Eating with all of them was something I enjoyed. Haymitch mostly behaved himself, although I ignored the fact that he was there anyway. It was nice to have Peeta back, with his sweet comments on the way that Sae had prepared dinner or his small talk with Haymitch, asking about his geese. But it didn't last long enough.

Before I knew it, he was hugging Sae goodbye and thanking her for the meal. He shook Haymitch's hand before he claimed that he had obligations at home and left to tend to his geese with a full bottle of whiskey clutched in his fist. Then I was walking Peeta to the door.

"I'll bring something for dessert tomorrow, Sae." He called to the old woman while she cleaned off the table. I smiled to myself and hoped that this was the start to us returning to the way things had been.

He turned around to face me when he reached the door. "Thanks for having me over," He said and I just shook my head with a grin. "You know you're always welcome."

He smiled. "Peeta," I hesitated, stepping a little closer to him so that Sae wouldn't hear. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Peeta shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Katniss. If you won't tell me what's going on, at least allow me to be there to comfort you." He said. I wasn't sure what to do then. Was I supposed to pipe up and say, "Well, good night," and close the door behind him? Was an awkward handshake appropriate? It seemed weird to hug him goodnight, although we were hugging only an hour ago.

Peeta decided for me, standing there in the doorway. He held both of his hands out tentatively, an offer. I smiled and he quickly had one to match mine as I walked forward into his arms. It was a quick hug, but a hug nonetheless. "Sleep well," He said as he made his way off the porch and into the night.

"You too," We both knew that it wouldn't happen but it was a hope that we had for each other. I wouldn't really sleep well unless he was there. And maybe, just maybe, because things started looking brighter, we'd get to that point again. But I'm going to take it one visit at a time, one dinner to the next, and every hug that he offers. Baby steps, that's what I would take. I would take baby steps and hope that everything would be okay, as Peeta had promised.

**And there you have it. Chapter 6, as promised. I decided to throw a long one in there to hold you guys off for a little while and, because I know you've been waiting. Hope I didn't disappoint and I hope that you guys keep reading and reviewing. **

**I know I have readers out there, but where are all my reviewers? I would really like feedback, especially on the direction that these next few chapters are headed in. Lots of thanks and lots of love!**


	7. I'll Fix Them

It must be the afternoon by now but I can't be sure. The sky has looked the same all day. All week, for that matter. Gloomy, dark, looming. I keep hoping that the rolling storm clouds will blow over but when they do, it blows another set right in and the rain continues.

The sun's prolonged vacation has begun to take a toll on me. I haven't been able to watch the much enjoyed sunsets with Peeta and I have no sense of time, which has led to me sleeping until late hours of the morning. I don't go into the woods anymore, for the simple reasons that my father's coat doesn't ward off the rain and that once beyond that fence, you are nearly completely surrounded by darkness.

Gale and I used to love the fact that the trees were tall and full because they would save us from the sun's rays on exceptionally warm evenings. But when the sun was hidden and the thick clouds closed off any possibility of escaping daylight, those trees seemed haunting. I felt like an animal, enclosed in a cage. And the forest was too quiet and eerie enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But most of all, it reminded me of the Games. It reminded me of all those nights that I spent alone, feeling cold and betrayed because Peeta was intent on killing me with the Careers, and then mourning in the silence with my guilt after Rue's death.

I shook off the thought of the woods and followed the muffled sound of clanking dishes. I already know who it is, of course. On multiple occasions, I have asked Sae to just stay at my house with me until the storming and the water settled. I hated the thought of her sludging her way through the already haunting town, soaked to the bone, just to deliver meals and daily cleaning. I hated the thought of her waiting on me anyway, but she would insist every time that I mentioned this. "Do not worry, child. It pleases me to see you enjoy a meal and get on with life, after all that you've done for the people. I enjoy spending time with a friend,"

It was the first time that I realized how Sae truly saw me. It was comforting to know that after all of the mistakes I've made and wrong doings I've done, someone could still see the good deeds. And she thought of me as a friend, which meant more to me now than having friends in the past ever meant.

When I rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, I found her with her back to me and a dish in one hand and a rag in the other. She was just cleaning up the dishes from last night, as I had told her to turn in early before it got too dark to see her way back home. It still amazed me, how her little beaten down house had seen the least of the damage when the bombing took place. However, I still hope that someday she'll change her mind and decide to live with me, instead of going back to her old place with poor conditions.

I hadn't said a word, but she must have heard me come in. "The boy brought these for you, early this morning." Sae said to me, her braided head nodding towards a small platter with three cupcakes, topped with frosted orange flowers and tiny green slants, which were easily recognizable as leaves. Orange and green. I wondered if he had purposely added both of our favorite colors.

"That was kind of him," I muttered as I took the one in the middle. It was too pretty to eat. "Help yourself to one, Sae. I can't eat all of these on my own." The old woman just smiled and carried about with her dish rinsing. I placed the colorful cake back in its place, promising myself that I would try it later.

As I left the kitchen, I snatched my coat from the back of a chair and told Sae, "I shouldn't be long. I'm just going to run to Peeta's for a bit." This was no news to Sae. I normally went over to his house, or he came over here. I wouldn't let the weather get between our daily meetings and he seemed to agree.

My boots sloshed across the dirt road that had become something of a small river, with all the rain water. The water wasn't deep, it only licked the sides of my boots, but it ran down the sloped road and into the town's streets. When I reached Peeta's door, I didn't bother knocking, as I would have a few weeks ago. We had regained most of the relationship that we had before, lacking only a few things like sleeping in the same bed. We were close again, the best friends that survived two Hunger Games and a rebellion together.

His front door swung open and I kicked the bottom of my boots over the rug, although it didn't do any good as it was soaked as well. So I squeaked my presence across the hardwood floor as I walked. "Peeta?" I called up the stairs but heard a reply from the kitchen behind me.

"In here, Katniss." I found him sprinkling white flour over the counter in front of him before slapping a large hunk of dough over top of it. Peeta had returned to baking lately, trying old recipes and such that he had forgotten over the years of the Games and the battles.

I watched him flatten out the middle of the dough with a rolling pin as I thanked him for the cupcakes. He smiled, "My pleasure." I settled myself on my usual stool at the counter and watched him prepare his next bakery item. Once in a while, I would question him about why he did something or how he knew how much to add. I picked up the rolling pin and spun it in my hands, examining it, while he turned to slip a loaf of bread into the heated oven.

"Peeta, this handle is broken." I examined, pinching the left side of the rolling pin between my fingers. It was limp, unlike the other side, and wobbled drastically. I wondered how he could do anything with it.

His eyes landed on the handle for just a moment before he turned to sweep some flour off of the counter into his hand. "Yeah." Was all he said. There was something in his voice that bothered me.

"How did it break, Peeta?" I asked, not expecting the answer that followed.

It took him a moment to answer my question. "My mom broke it," He said, not looking at me, while his flour-coated hand tapped the side of his head. Slowly, that registered in my mind, although it wasn't easy to take.

I gasped softly before speaking. "Peeta, why would she do something like that?"

He shrugged, as if it weren't a big deal. "I don't remember what it was for that time. I probably didn't scrape the bread pan good enough or threw out a bottle of frosting before it was empty,"

In that moment, I felt the one thing that I hated most. I pitied him. It was heartbreaking to think of little curly-haired Peeta being beaten and bruised by his mother all his life.

"Peeta, I'm so sor-" _Crack!_ The words that were about to leave my mouth were interrupted by a loud whap of lightning, and almost over top of the sound of lightning striking something, thunder boomed.

Somehow, my eyes knew right where to look. Out the front window of Peeta's living room, I watched the bolt meet the end of the old tree that stood tall on the side of my house. The tree gave a horrifying quiver and before I knew what was happening, it was falling forward.

Everything seemed slow, like none of this was actually happening. At first, I expected to sit up in bed and shake it off as just another nightmare. But this was real. This was a real nightmare, I realized, as the large tree creaked down towards…

"NO!" I shouted, running through the living room and out the front door. "No, Prim!" I screamed in the rain, speeding towards the freshly fallen tree and the garden patch that Peeta had constructed for me the day that he had returned to District 12.

"Please, no." I cried as I fell to my knees and allowed my fingers to waver over the crushed primroses. The tree had killed them, killed them all. Killed Prim. "Prim. No, Prim. Please. Come back," I pleaded as rain drops and tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Katniss!" I could faintly hear above the roaring rain beating on rooftops and the tough fabric of my father's coat. "Katniss!" I heard again, closer this time. Then I felt soft hands on my shoulders.

"It killed her!" I wept to Peeta, falling closer to the ground, feeling myself sink deeper into the mud. It hit me then, like a ton of those heavy bricks that made up the house next to me. The tree didn't kill Prim, I did. "The Girl on Fire let me burn, the Girl on Fire let me burn…" I could hear her voice in the back of my mind. "Prim," I said, but it was no longer a frantic scream, it was a plea.

"Katniss, come on. Let's get in the house." Peeta tried to reason with me. His strong arms were hauling me to my feet from beneath my arms, like someone was leaning down to pick up a toddler. He pulled me up but my knees were weak. "I killed her, Peeta. She's gone."

"Katniss, you didn't kill her. The tree didn't kill her. Those are only flowers, Katniss. I'll fix them." He promised, pulling me close to wrap an arm around my waist and hold my own arm around his shoulder. "You can't, Peeta. She's gone." I repeated, making no effort to move my feet.

He pulled me closer to the front of the house. We had nearly reached the front steps of the porch when I collapsed. "Katniss!" Peeta yelled, but that was the last thing I heard. I was gone.

When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the ceiling. I sat up, surprised to find myself covered in a light sheet and already changed into new clothes. There was proof that the previous events had happened, however, as there were muddy footprints where my boots must have been sat down before taken away to be cleaned and I could see dirt beneath my fingernails.

I was too late to hear the quick footsteps leading to my door before it flew open and banged against the wall. Haymitch stood in the doorway, dripping wet and ghost white. I was too shocked to ask but he quickly opened his lips to speak.

"You better come now," He huffed and added, "And quick." I swung my feet over the bed and they met the floor. I suppose my look questioned him further and as if to answer, he simply said, "It's Peeta."

Those two words frightened me. Haymitch spun to jog back down the stairs and I was hot on his heels. He opened the door to reveal two men stumbling up the road in the distance with a limp body swinging between them.

Squinting out into the rain didn't help much but as they grew closer, I gasped. "Peeta!" I yelled, not expecting him to answer in any way but his name escaped my lips time and time again as I ran forward to the porch's edge. Now I could see the two men that carried him.

The first one with his arms linked beneath Peeta's was Thom. I should have recognized him sooner. The second man who held Peeta's legs was one that I knew as a visitor from District 7, although his name had never been brought to my attention.

"What happened?" I demanded, trying to see around Thom to examine Peeta's state.

"Found him lying outside the fence boundaries with a shovel next to him. Must have been a branch that caused all that," Thom nodded downward and as they passed me with Peeta's unconscious body, I could see it. His blonde hair was matted in brown mud and if you looked closer, a deep scarlet color oozed from the side.

"Where do you want him?" The other man questioned, stopping to look around the room. I dashed forward to the table and threw the objects that sat on it to the floor. "Set him in here, just here on the table. I can clean him up here," I instructed.

There was a white rag hanging above the sink that I snagged and doused in warm water. When I turned back, Peeta was lying on the table and Haymitch had hustled the two men outside to further question what had happened.

Gently, and tentatively, I dabbed the gore and mess on the side of his head. Before long, my white rag was covered in mud and a lot of blood and as I cleaned away, I could see his wound more clearly. A long, jagged slice was visible from above the back of his ear to nearly the bottom of his head.

I shuddered, gently pressing my fingers to the deep spot on the top and thinking that I was glad that he wasn't awake for this.

"Well? How bad is it?" Haymitch's voice came from behind me. I didn't turn to look at him and I could hear him coming closer to see for himself.

"I think the top might need stitches," I pointed to the area that I was talking about. "As for the rest, I think it will heal just fine if we keep it clean enough." I silently thanked my mother for at least teaching me how to sew when I was young. I never had the patience enough to learn anything but sewing, for some reason, had caught my interest.

Haymitch nodded beside me. "Do you think you can handle it?" I sighed, looking down at it again. "I think _we_ will be able to handle it just fine on our own. I can take care of this," I gestured to the side of his head. "But I'm going to need you to help me clean him up and get him off the table." I stared at Haymitch for a minute, waiting for a snide remark or some kind of scowl. But he just nodded.

"Found these in his kitchen," He set a bottle of pills on the edge of the table. "Bottle says they're pain killers for his leg. Figured it couldn't hurt to use now," He said before he started walking away. "I'll go check on Sae, let her know what's goin' on while you fix him up." Then the door shut behind him.

I was quick to open up the bottle and get Peeta just conscious enough to swallow some water to get the pain killer down. Then there was the issue of finding mom's old sewing kit.

Before long, and after many deep breaths, I found the courage in myself to begin stitching up his injury. Once it was started, it wasn't so bad. But as I finished it off and clipped the string, Peeta moaned.

"Are you alright?" I asked him, brushing his wet hair from his face. When he didn't answer, I continued. "Peeta?" There was a small grin forming on his face before he sighed, "I love the way you say my name."

I stopped, waiting for him to open his eyes and with a funny smile, exclaim, "Just kidding!" But he didn't. This wasn't like Peeta. Then I realized that it might have been the pill taking effect on his mind.

I stayed silent for a minute, waiting to see if he would say something else or tell me that he was in pain. He looked so childish when he was sleeping. So innocent. I took the advantage of him sleeping to clean up. I put the sewing kit away, in the closet where I found it. Then I rinsed the rag and watched the red and brown swirl together as they disappeared into the drain.

"Katniss?" I turned at the sound of his voice and walked forward to stand beside the table. "I'm here, Peeta." I assured him, lightly placing my hand on his shoulder. He nodded slowly.

"Shh, Peeta. Don't move, just lie still." I instructed him, pulling out a chair from underneath the table so that I could sit.

"What were you thinking, Peeta? Going into the woods alone, in a rain storm?" The questions suddenly sprang from my lips. I couldn't keep them in any longer, now that he was awake.

His eyes remained closed but his eyebrows pulled down and his lips did in a frown as well. "I was fixing them."

I scooted closer and placed my elbows on the edge of the table before letting my head rest on top of my hands. "Fixing what, Peeta?" I asked, confused and growing more and more frustrated with the seconds that ticked by and he didn't answer.

"I told you I'd fix them for you. For her," He mumbled. I could feel the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. I had forgotten about what happened, the incident with Peeta pushing all of that worry away to be replaced with the worry for him. "Those are only flowers, Katniss. I'll fix them." I could still hear him say.

I disguised those soft feelings of gratitude and appreciation with those of my anger and worry. "Peeta Mellark, you scared the hell out of me! Don't you ever do something so _stupid_ and empty minded again. You could have gotten yourself killed, Peeta. And then-" His weak hand lifted up to take mine. I looked up to see that his blue eyes had finally opened and then realized that my own eyes had betrayed me. I hurriedly reached up to wipe at the falling tears.

His empty hand beat me to it. "I'm alright, Katniss." He whispered, gently touching the tear streaks on my face. "Don't cry," He ordered softly and then tried to smile. "Or Haymitch might think you've gone soft on us." The chuckle behind me made me jump up in my chair. Immediately, I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve.

Then, I turned to face Haymitch. He met me with an arrogant smile and as we were carrying Peeta in towards the living room couch, he looked up to deliberately meet my gaze and mouthed, "I told you so."

Once Peeta was down, he winced. I raced up the stairs to my bedroom and stripped my bed of both pillows and the sheet. I placed one pillow carefully behind his head and, before I could place the other, he asked if he could have that one to prop his leg.

"Are you comfortable?" I asked him, tucking the sheet around the side of the couch. He only nodded, the effects of the drug taking his consciousness away from him once more. "Alright," I said, letting my fingers trail the edge of the couch as I turned to walk back into the kitchen. Haymitch was gathering his jacket in his arms, readying himself to return home.

"Katniss, wait!" Peeta said urgently, his fingers pinching the hem of my t-shirt. I spun around, ready to ask what was wrong, which part hurt. "Don't go." He said, looking up at me.

I stared at him for a minute, waiting to see if this was just another passing episode that this crazy Capitol drug sent him into. But those blue eyes stayed on mine. "Please stay, Katniss." Peeta pleaded. As I looked down at him, he reminded me of someone years younger, seeking comfort the way that Prim had when she would sleep with mother.

Haymitch cleared his throat, pulling open the door. "I'll leave you two alone, then." He muttered, stepping through it. I watched him step out into the rain and a pressure on my hand brought my attention back down to Peeta.

"Alright, Peeta. I'll stay." I whispered to him, crawling onto the side of the couch and the little room that it offered. But once I was next to him, I didn't care how uncomfortable the couch may seem because I knew I would be plenty comfortable in his arms and completely free of my nightmares.

But I didn't sleep. I couldn't. Every single time that I closed my eyes, I kept seeing the toolbox in the shed. So deep in the night, when the rain on the roof sounded like nothing more than a light sprinkle, I untangled myself from Peeta's arms, slipped on my coat and boots, and trudged out to the shed. From the top of the toolbox, right where I left them, I could see the gold lettering glint from here. My fingers found the tapes. My past. My unwanted memories and burdens. My stories that would soon be portrayed before my eyes on the T.V screen that awaited inside with a sleeping Peeta.

**I apologize for the wait on this chapter. I do hope that you enjoy it though. This one was a lot of fun to write and took some serious thought. **

**I want to inform you all now, and apologize in advance, that updates might not be coming as frequently. Starting tomorrow, I will be taking a class that will use up a majority of my writing time. But I won't cut you guys off. :) You'll just have to be a little more patient with me. **

**Big thank you's to everybody that has started reviewing. They're good to hear and they make me want to keep writing. **


	8. The Odds Were Always In Our Favor

It was dark and it was cold. In my lap sat the band that I had removed from my dripping hair to undo the braid, and the tapes. I still knelt in the middle of the floor, staring at nothing and pondering. I was procrastinating and I knew it.

"Coward," I muttered to myself. I hated myself for not having the courage to take a single step forward and put the tape into the player. "It's not like you haven't seen it before, Katniss." I thought to myself. When I remembered sitting on stage, next to Caesar Flickerman and his midnight-blue eyeliner, curled into Peeta's side, and watching what all of Panem had seen, it seemed like only yesterday. But that was a lifetime ago, back when I was just District 12 Victor and Star-Crossed-Lover, Katniss Everdeen. Back when the title, "Girl on Fire" meant next to nothing. Back when mockingjays were just a Capitol mistake, and not an emblem of rebellion. If I had only known then that it was merely the beginning of what would change.

Often, I wonder if I would have taken change better if only there were a way that I could go back and warn myself. If I could go back to the day of the reaping and tell myself to enjoy those last moments in the woods with Gale, because it would be the last time that we would truly be friends. If only I could scold myself on the days that I passed up an opportunity to watch Prim milk Lady or sing her a lullaby. If only I could stop myself before I said and did hurtful things to Peeta.

I had a lot of regrets. Some of them were small, like not showing enough appreciation when Cinna would ask me what I thought of his creation, or pushing a hand off my shoulder when my mother would try to comfort me. Sometimes I even regretted yelling at Haymitch.

"Katniss…" It was said so quietly that I had barely heard it, but his voice pulled me out of my sorrowful thinking. I got to my feet, my knees aching from sitting so long, and shuffled to the couch. In his restlessness, Peeta had kicked the sheet from the left side of his body and the pillow that once propped his leg had fallen to the floor.

"What is it, Peeta?" I asked him, struggling to see his face in the dark. The little moonlight that came through the window was my only help. "Peeta?" I asked again when he didn't answer and reached down to pull the sheet back up to his waist.

"Katniss?" His voice responded, sounding alarmed. It was rough with sleep and I quickly realized that I had woken him up. He stretched his arms out behind his head before rubbing his eyes with balled fists like a child might. "Katniss, what's wrong?"

"Sorry, Peeta. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just thought…Well, I worried that you might-" I took a deep breath to steady my words. The late hour of the night was getting to my head and jumbling my thoughts. Finally, I said, much quieter than before, "You talk in your sleep."

His bright eyes met mine briefly before they closed and he reminded me between a deep yawn, "So do you." I blinked and looked down. Mine wouldn't exactly be considered talking. It was more like screaming. After a minute of silence, I admitted softly, "Yeah, I guess I do."

I don't know why we were whispering. Everybody that could be woken in the house was already awake. For a moment, Peeta didn't say anything and I wondered if sleep had claimed him once again.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." He then whispered in a voice that was barely audible. His eyes stayed closed and his face remained expressionless, only his lips moved. I waited, hoping he might continue, before the silence grew too long and I finally questioned. "For what, Peeta?"

I sat down on the edge of the sofa and he took a deep breath. "For breaking my promise." His eyebrows lowered. "I promised that I would fix them."

For a second, all I could do was stare at him. Was that all that this boy was thinking about? He was worried about breaking a promise when he should have been worrying about the gash down his skull.

"Peeta, you don't need to apologize. You tried to fix them, and that means everything." I struggled to get the last part out of my mouth. Despite my anger at him for running out into the depths of a ruthless storm, alone, I decided that he didn't need my scolding right now. He needed my appreciation. After all, I didn't need any more regrets to add to my list.

"I will fix them. I'm just taking a break," His pale lips mumbled. I shook my head, wondering what it was about that drug that screwed with his mind. Of course, his head injury couldn't be helping with that either.

"Don't you worry about that now. You'll need to rest for a while and get better." I told him. He slowly nodded his head and I caught his face between my hands. "Stop moving. You need to just hold still."

His skin was cold to the touch. He didn't move once I restrained him though, he just went limp. I sat like that for a moment before I pulled my hands back to myself and scooted further onto the couch. "How do you feel?"

He let out a sigh before answering, "It's okay." I rolled my eyes and stretched my legs out, allowing my head to rest on the far side of the pillow that Peeta's head was propped on. "You don't have to pretend, Peeta. I won't think less of you just because you're in pain."

As he faced the ceiling, I could see a small grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, it stings a little." He allowed. I laughed softly and pulled myself up on my elbow to lean forward, as I had done countless times to Prim, and lightly kissed his head, just beside the injury itself.

His eyes flashed open and he slightly turned his head so that he could see me. "What was that?" He asked, a little louder than our whispering.

"Don't flatter yourself," I teased with a smile and placed my head back on the pillow. "I was just kissing it better." He raised an eyebrow and I turned over to face the other way and as sleep came to claim me, I could hear Peeta's quiet laughter.

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of mewing and I groaned, almost wishing that the stupid cat hadn't found his way home just so that I could sleep a little longer. I sat up, careful not to wake a sleeping Peeta, and rolled off the edge of the couch. It was still kind of dark, which led me to believe that it was still night until I flung open the door to let Buttercup inside. It was faint, but I could still notice the slight glow of the sun behind the gray clouds and judging by its height, it was later in the morning.

Haymitch must have insisted that Sae stay home because there was no evidence of her being in the house. I walked back over to see Peeta with his arm tucked behind his head and his chest rising and falling rhythmically and then noticed the black tapes that sat in the middle of the floor.

I immediately rushed over and stooped to pick them up, thankful that I had noticed them before Peeta. As quietly as possible, I tucked them both away behind the television so that they were no longer in sight.

The morning seemed dull. I couldn't visit with Sae because she wasn't here and it wouldn't make any sense to go to Peeta's because he was currently asleep on my couch. So I decided to sneak up the stairs and take a shower.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the warm water, noticing only now that last night, I had been nightmare free. Secretly, I hoped that Peeta asking me to sleep there hadn't only been an effect of the drug on his mind. I hoped that maybe now, he realized that it would be okay to fall back into our old routine.

Once I was dry and dressed, I braided my hair behind me and started for the stairs. I could hear him before I saw him. I got to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see him stand and have to steady himself on the edge of the couch.

"Careful," I warned him and his gaze flashed up to me. ""Morning," Was his reply with an impish grin.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. I reached down to pick up the pillow that he had knocked down again and answered. "Fine. What about you?"

"Pretty good." I could hear him yawn. "No nightmares?" I asked him, remembering the way he tossed and muttered in his sleep.

"No," He hesitated. "No nightmares. Just…weird dreams." He laughed once and I looked away, wondering how much of it was dreaming and how much he remembered of his odd drug-inspired comments. And me kissing his wound.

"How are you feeling?" My eyes returned to meet his. He considered it for a minute, looking up as if thinking. "I'm a little dizzy and my head's pounding, but I don't really feel-" His hand reached up to feel the gash. "It might hurt if you touch it," I warned him, reaching up to stop his hand and lower it to his side.

He just sighed and sat back down on the sofa. "How are _you_ doing?"

I sat down next to him and sighed as well. I knew he was referring to my break down over the flowers yesterday.

"I'm okay." I assured him before saying in a softer voice, "I'm sorry you had to see that." It was quiet for only a second.

"Hey," Peeta said, lowering his head so that he could see my eyes. "You don't need to apologize. I know it's hard for you."

Him saying that made me feel guilty. Peeta was always there, comforting me when I would cry for Prim, but he had lost his entire family. And not once had I ever asked if he wanted to talk about it or if he was okay.

I stood up suddenly, taking a deep breath. I just needed some space. "Just stay down for a minute. I'll be right back." To escape, I went into the kitchen and got Peeta a glass of water, unscrewed the pill cap to fish out a colorful pain killer, and just before I was ready to return to him, I remembered the cupcakes that he had so kindly brought for me early yesterday morning. The cupcakes that I had promised myself that I would try and never did. So I picked one out for Peeta and one for myself and, with my arms full, walked back in to deliver it to the small nightstand that sat next to the sofa.

I could tell that he wanted to take the pill but he put it off as long as he could. He ate slowly and sipped at his water until I finally spoke up.

"Peeta, you need to take it." I took it in my hand and offered it to him. He stared at it for a minute and shook his head. "It will make me sleep."

"You need sleep. It will help you heal." I tried, holding my hand closer. "I don't want to sleep anymore."

"Peeta," I reasoned impatiently. "It's better than being in pain."

Finally, that seemed to convince him. He reached out and pinched the tiny pill between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. I suggested that he move upstairs and sleep in the bed so that maybe he'd be more comfortable and after more convincing than it took to get him to take the pill, he finally agreed and with me carrying the pillows and sheets, he hobbled up the stairs in front of me, clutching the railing so that he didn't fall.

While Peeta tried to sleep upstairs, I headed back down to the kitchen and raided until I found some stew from a couple of nights ago and fed the remainder to the scruffy cat. When I returned to check on Peeta, he was no longer awake.

He slept the day away without waking. Sae stopped by once in the late afternoon with a bowl of some steaming meal that I put away for later. In the meantime, I assumed her job, cleaning up the house. Sae did a better job of it but as least the mud and grime was scrubbed from the floors and table. Several times, I considered watching one of the tapes, since the rain still hadn't ceased to fall and Peeta continued to sleep. But I didn't talk myself into it until it was dark again.

I had just eaten a small portion of the vegetables and rice that Sae made and was rinsing the dishes when I decided on it. I had nothing left to do. It had to be now or never.

So for a second time, I stood in the middle of the room with the tape in my hand, willing myself to take that step forward and turn it on. Even then, it took more convincing. But slowly and gradually, I made my way forward and removed the tape from its black and gold shell.

As soon as the tape was in, the screen lit up and Claudius Templesmith's voice was booming the words, "Let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

I backed up, in a daze, all the way to the sofa and once the backs of my calves touched the fabric, I fell into the seat. The tape was in. There was no going back. "You can do this, Katniss." I told myself each time that I got the urge to race forward and shut it off.

It began with the introduction, the history behind the Hunger Games, the reason for its existence. It showed the re-run clip of District 13 with the mockingjay wing that Twill and Bonnie had once pointed out to me when I found them in the woods all that time ago. Then the reaping began.

District 1 was up and Glimmer, not puffy and distorted as I remember her, stepped onto the stage with Rue's killer, Marvel, who received an arrow straight through the neck. They shook hands and were parted with, "And may the odds be ever in your favor." The odds were not in their favor.

Then Clove climbed the stage with a grin on her face and, with a shudder, I watched as Cato joined her with a grin to match. They shook hands and parted. The odds were not in their favor.

District by district, the tributes were reaped. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

The District 10 tributes left the stage and now the camera was in District 11. I stared at the screen intently as her name was called. As little Rue climbed the stage, I was disgusted with the people that stood watching in the audience. How could they watch a young girl crawl up to meet her death and not volunteer to take her place? I would have done it. I did do it. Then Thresh's name was reaped from the lot and he stalked up to the stage. Just seeing him stand next to her, just noticing how helpless she seemed next to one of their own, they should have known that the odds wouldn't be in her favor.

Then the view changed and I was staring at District 12. I was looking at my home before the bombing, although on the day of the reaping, it never really looked like home anyway. Effie clicked up to the stage in her heels and read from the first paper, "Primrose Everdeen." I held my breath as the camera searched for her in the crowd. Then, there she was. There was an ache in my chest, a terrible pain that made my arms wrap around my torso in attempt to keep me from falling apart. The most time was spent on the reaping of District 12 by far.

"Prim!" My own strangled voice came through the monitor now. The camera now finds me, weaving through the crowd. "Prim!" I watch myself on the screen as I push her behind me. "I volunteer!" Some of the crowd gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!"

I watch as Prim clings to me crying, "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" Then the me on the screen speaks so harshly that I add this to my list of many regrets. "Prim, let go." And then again, my voice rings out. "Let go!" I close my eyes, listening to her protests coming through the screen as Gale carries my little sister away. Then Effie invites me on stage and I realize just how much I hated her back before I knew her.

They cut out the scene of my fellow District 12 members, many of them dead now, pressing three fingers to their lips and holding them out in my direction in respect, admiration, farewell. But they couldn't cut out the entire scene. Then, Effie was pulling another slip from the ball and, from her heavily painted lips came the name, "Peeta Mellark!"

Slowly, the cameras zeroed him out. Realization sunk into his features as he pushed his way through the crowd. He met me at the top and, as instructed, we shook hands. At that time, we had no idea that we would become the star-crossed lovers. We were not anticipating our victory and especially not to be reaped yet again for the Quarter Quell. We were not expecting to be the cores of an uprising, a rebellion.

"And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." Nobody said it like Effie Trinket. And as I watched Peeta and I on the screen, I saw fear in our eyes. I saw disbelief. And as we stood up there, we had no clue that-

"The odds were always in our favor." Peeta's voice came from behind me and not on the screen. I whipped around to see him standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, the moonlight illuminating only half of his face. I hadn't heard him come down the stairs and I wasn't worried that he would be upset about me watching the Games. The only thing that I could think was: He was right.


	9. To Shut You Up

**I know, it's been an awful long time since I've last updated. Please don't hate me for it. I was hoping to make this longer for you guys, but this was as good as I could get it. I did try to throw in something exciting for those of you that have been waiting. :) I really hope you enjoy it and can give me some thoughts/ideas about where you think this could be going. **

**Also, because it's been so long, I did include the last bit of the previous chapter so that you guys aren't completely lost. And just because I haven't told you in a while, I want all of you readers, followers, reviewers, and especially those who have this story on their list of Favorites to know that you are amazing! I'll shut up now so you guys can read "To Shut You Up." ;) Love you all!**

(... They cut out the scene of my fellow District 12 members, many of them dead now, pressing three fingers to their lips and holding them out in my direction in respect, admiration, farewell. But they couldn't cut out the entire scene. Then, Effie was pulling another slip from the ball and, from her heavily painted lips came the name, "Peeta Mellark!"

Slowly, the cameras zeroed him out. Realization sunk into his features as he pushed his way through the crowd. He met me at the top and, as instructed, we shook hands. At that time, we had no idea that we would become the star-crossed lovers. We were not anticipating our victory and especially not to be reaped yet again for the Quarter Quell. We were not expecting to be the cores of an uprising, a rebellion.

"And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." Nobody said it like Effie Trinket. And as I watched Peeta and I on the screen, I saw fear in our eyes. I saw disbelief. And as we stood up there, we had no clue that-

"The odds were always in our favor." Peeta's voice came from behind me and not on the screen. I whipped around to see him standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, the moonlight illuminating only half of his face. I hadn't heard him come down the stairs and I wasn't worried that he would be upset about me watching the Games. The only thing that I could think was: He was right. ...)

I felt numb as I slowly rose to my feet, my eyes never leaving his. In the background was the faint buzzing of voices, unmistakably those belonging to Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman, explaining the rules and regulations of the upcoming Games. Above their voices behind me came my own.

"You're supposed to be sleeping." I stated to Peeta through the darkness, bringing my chin up in the direction of the stairs. My voice was hard and the realness of it rung out just as Peeta's had. He moved then, allowing his arms to fall to his sides and pushed away from the wall he leaned against. Both halves of his face were now visible in the dim light, assigning his skin a very pale shine and casting dark shadows beneath his eyes that only accented my previous statement. Peeta needed all the sleep that he could get.

"Nightmares," He explained shortly, lowering his head and stepping forward. I swallowed loudly, watching him shuffle to the edge of the sofa and rest his hands on the side. Then he looked up, but not at me. His eyes stared over my head and on towards the television screen. I could hear the voices of both televised men laughing behind me, but I didn't turn. I was afraid to.

I was also afraid of what effect this would have on Peeta. I wanted to rush forward and push him from the room. I wanted to turn and slam the tape from the player. I wanted to destroy all traces of them even existing. But I couldn't will myself to move.

"Didn't know this was something you did in your free time." Peeta muttered with his strained eyes on the screen. I hated the way he said it, like it was an accusation. "It isn't." I snapped at him, a little too late to realize that I should be cautious with the things I say. This was dangerous territory that I was treading on. _One slip up and Peeta could snap,_ I realized after reminding myself that these tapes were what had been used against his real memory. Against me.

Finally he pulled his gaze from the screen to examine me like I was the one that could flip personalities on him at any given time and I stared right back like the stubborn being I was. "How many times have you seen this?" He asked me after a second's silence. I shook my head. "Once. We watched it together."

Peeta's eyebrows pulled together in question. "We did?" Slowly, I nodded my head and silently scolded myself. Of course Peeta didn't remember that the same way that I did. "With Caesar. After the Games." He didn't reply, returning his eyes to what was now being played on the screen.

"When did you open them?" Was his next question. I stared at him, disbelieving that he could really be referring to the tapes. But what else would he be talking about? "How do you know about that?" My voice was hard again and this time, I didn't try to stop it from sounding so. I had kept the tapes out of sight, leaving nothing to be suspicious about. I certainly hadn't said anything about them to Peeta, and Sae knew nothing about them being here. He couldn't have known about them unless…

_Haymitch._ Anger bubbled under my skin towards that rotten, good-for-nothing drunk. It must have been one of his sick ways of getting back at me for something. Multiple words to describe Haymitch shot through my mind, words that my mother would be ashamed to hear coming from my mouth.

"I called him." Peeta's voice interrupted my long flow of nasty adjectives. My head was so caught up in thought, I had to clarify. "What? Called who?" My question was curious instead of accusing, as it was meant to sound. Peeta's hesitation tested my patience and I asked louder, "Who did you call, Peeta?"

He looked down at me before answering. "I called the doc." I should have felt bad for cussing Haymitch, but I didn't. I opened my mouth to speak again but Peeta cut me off. "Wait, just let me explain first. I had to do it, Katniss. That tree came down and I…I don't know, I just panicked. You passed out on me. I didn't know what to do, how to help you. So I called him." His words were rushed.

I wasn't sure what to say to him. I didn't know how to respond. I was furious that he had resulted in talking to Dr. Aurelius. I was even more furious that I could understand why he did. I had known that feeling, the desperation for answers when you didn't know what to do yourself. Before I could say anything, Peeta continued.

"He asked me if you had watched the tapes. He thought that maybe, with watching them sooner than you were ready, it could have triggered a reaction like that. He thought I already knew you had them, and I didn't tell him otherwise. I guessed that was what was in that box," I looked down, studying the patterns on the sofa and the way they sunk in with the pressure of Peeta's hands. "Please don't be mad, Katniss." His plead was hovering just above a whisper and although my eyes were down, I could see him lower his head to see my expression. I didn't move other than blink.

Seconds later, the patterns that I were studying on the sofa changed, dipping down towards Peeta's now clutching hands. Fear struck me at first, thinking that this was the start of a flashback. My eyes flicked to his face immediately, noting his blue eyes that were squinted in pain. He had lost his balance.

Suddenly, I was able to move. "Peeta," I said, rushing around the edge of the couch to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be up." He slowly straightened his arms against the edge, standing still, perhaps testing to see if he would lose it again. "I'm fine." I groaned in frustration and clasped my fingers around his forearm. "Just sit down before you fall down."

When he was finally settled on the couch, I realized that I had made a mistake. I should have taken him upstairs, away from the television that was playing out our history. It was too late for that now but I wouldn't leave it on. While Peeta positioned a pillow behind his neck, I stepped forward to cut the power. With fingers centimeters from the red button that would end my nightmare, he stopped me. "Don't. Leave it, Katniss."

I turned around to face him. "Peeta, neither one of us are ready for that." I pointed a finger towards the screen that was now playing out the tributes' scores. His head was still lowered slightly but his eyes were raised to meet mine. "How do you know?" He asked quietly. I simply stared at him, wondering how it was that he didn't already know. "We could do it, Katniss. Together."

How he talked me into it, I didn't know. I gave in much too easily for the Katniss that I know. Or knew. Who I was anymore was a constant question. On the screen, the Games had started. I sat on the sofa next to Peeta, often glancing from him to the Games to gauge his reactions. He didn't seem fazed in the slightest but then again, there wasn't much about these scenes that the tracker jacker venom could have changed. It was the ones with me in them that I had to worry about.

"Hey, lover boy!" I shuddered at the sound of Cato's voice on the screen, followed by a tinkling female laugh and a snide comment from none other than Rue's killer, Marvel. Although my eyes were averted, staring off to the dark wall to my left, I knew that this was when Peeta joined forces with the Careers. Even now, knowing that he didn't do it to hunt me down and slaughter me, I still had hard feelings towards it. Then the scenes shifted from various tributes, or the ones that had survived the first hours of the games at least, showing their techniques of traveling or finding shelter.

The camera first found Thresh, or his back, as he raced through some underbrush and dropped down into a small creek that bubbled up from the marshy ground. He was better off than the rest of us, other than the Careers guarding the stash, due to his quick finding of water. Then the scene flashed to the girl from District 8, hunkered over and holding her sides as her lungs struggled for breath after her desperate run. There was a quick flash of Foxface slinking around tree trunks, peeking behind her in intervals. I allowed myself to feel bad for just a moment, that Peeta and I had been the cause of her death and I still didn't know her name. Then the camera found me.

"Good to see you," The me on the screen was whispering to a large cottontail rabbit. I lingered for just a moment before sloping down into new terrain. Cato's voice emanated from the screen then, yet again, and the view shifted to a dark cluster of wood with nothing but the sound of voices and crunching feet. Slowly then, one by one, they came into view. First Glimmer with the bow thrown carelessly over her shoulder, then the rest with Peeta lagging at the back of the pack. I forced myself to look away again, although I knew this scene wouldn't last long.

I glanced at the real Peeta next to me and his intent focus on the figures in the woods. His expression stayed the same, with a confused furrow between his brows, until Clove's voice piped up on the television. "Well?" She demanded, stopping and spinning around to stare Peeta down. "We're going in the right direction. We've got to run into her sooner or later," Peeta's own voice echoed through the monitor. It was obvious who they were talking about, who they wanted to find. Who they wanted dead. "Well it better be sooner for your sake, twelve." Clove's voice pierced before either Cato or Glimmer shushed her into silence.

Peeta shifted next to me, his eyes glass and his lips slightly parted. "You must have hated me." He whispered, turning his head to see me. "You had me just as fooled as the people of Panem." I don't know why I said it but I guess it was a good enough answer to explain how I felt when I saw him with the Careers because in all honesty, I did hate him in that moment. I hated him for making me feel betrayed. I hated him for acting so cowardly. If the choices came down to joining the Careers or welcoming death, I would have taken the later with open arms. But I now understand why he did what he did. It was for me, not against me.

The scenes flickered back and forth between the remaining thirteen tributes and showed death scenes of a given few that were taken out the first day. Peeta's eyes never strayed but the scenes didn't grasp my attention until it showed the girl from 8 starting the fire. The camera zoomed out, revealing me in a nearby tree, elaborating on how shockingly close we were to one another. I closed my eyes though and brought my hands up to my ears to muffle the screams. I knew what was coming next and I didn't want to see it, especially knowing which one of them went back to finish the girl off when the cannon didn't fire.

The cameras found various others, like the girl from District 4 and the boy from 3. My heart wrenched when it zeroed in on Rue. She was crouched low to the ground, carefully examining a plant below her when the whistling birds to her right fell silent and, just as I had seen her do, she scurried up the nearest tree and was gone.

After, it was me on the screen again. Doing nothing at first but sleeping in my bag on the high branches of the tree, and then I was running. The flames were almost licking my heels as I ran on the television, smoke in all directions. I remembered the unbearable heat of the fire and how it was nearly just as choking as the smoke that I inhaled and I felt a tear leak from the corner of my eye and linger on my cheek. Prim was taken from me that way. She suffered the wrath of those orange, spindly fingers that turned everything in their path to ash. It was too much. All of it. First seeing Rue, alive and well on the screen, jumping from tree to tree in her signature escape route. Then thinking of my sister, remembering that heat and knowing that what she felt was much, much worse.

"Katniss?" I heard Peeta next to me. The neck of my t-shirt was soaked through. Even if I had turned to look at Peeta, I wouldn't have been able to see him. Just as soon as the tears would fall from my eyes and clear my vision, more would appear. "Katniss…" I flinched at his soft touch, although it wasn't intentional. Suddenly the room was a lot darker than it had been and I swiped my fist over my eyes to see that the tape had been turned off.

Next to me, the cushion sank with Peeta's weight. Strong arms enclosed my shoulders and were guiding me down until my cheek was resting on the soft fabric of his black shirt. I didn't protest, not having the energy or desire to do anything but let my tears out. I wanted it out. All of the sadness and regret and guilt that I felt, I wanted it all out of me. For a small naïve moment, I believed that it could be done if only these tears weren't inside anymore. "Shh…" Peeta soothed next to me, pressing softly against the top of my head. His lips? I didn't know. I didn't care enough in the moment to look.

This was ridiculous. I had been worried all along that Peeta would have some kind of tracker jacker attack while watching the Games and instead, it had been me that broke down. I was so weak and helpless, allowing him to comfort me the way he was. It was like being a child again, curling up into mother when I would wake up screaming, "Run, dad! Get out of there!" Peeta shouldn't have to hold me like an infant and whisper soothing words to me. _I_ should be comforting _him_.

I didn't know how long it had been, but it seemed that the tears had stopped falling. I took the neck of my shirt, although wet itself, and wiped both sides of my face. Somehow, the little light that the moon offered through the window was just enough to make out Peeta's features. I looked up at him and he was already looking down at me.

He looked at me like a bomb waiting to blow, like I might burst in tears and fall into him like I was out of control. I placed my hands on the side of the couch and pushed myself up. It took a second for him to realize what I wanted and his arms slowly released me. "You okay?" His voice was wary.

Afraid to speak just yet, I nodded. What was wrong with him? Did he ever hurt the way that I did? I've never seen him cry for his lost family or break down when he looked back on all of the things that have happened to him. All of the things that he's done. I stood up suddenly with the strong urge to be alone.

"Where are you going?" He called after me and I could hear the sofa screech as he jumped up after me. I didn't answer him, the threat of tears lurking yet again. "Katniss!" He called seconds before he captured my arm. He spun me around to face him so that he could study me. "Are you upset with me?" He questioned after a moment. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering and nodded.

"What did I do?" There was genuine concern in his quiet voice. My voice was not so quiet. "It's what you didn't do!" I blew up, taking in a shaky breath. Before he had time to question, my crazy rant continued. I didn't know who I was. "I'm not supposed to be the one that crawls up in a corner and bawls every chance I get! You've lost so much and I never see _you_ crying and looking for comfort!" I stopped for a moment to steady my voice and question my sanity. I shouldn't be yelling at Peeta. Nothing is his fault. "I don't deserve all of this! I'm not _anything_ that everyone claims that I am. Besides Haymitch. He's the only one that sees me for what I really am. A worthless, insensitive, ungrateful-"

I was so pre-occupied with bashing myself that I didn't even notice that Peeta's eyes had left my own. It was so sudden that I didn't know what was going on until it was too late. His mouth was on mine and his strong hands were holding my head of messy hair. The tears were falling again but for why this time, I didn't know. I didn't know anything in that moment. _What are you doing, Katniss?_ My own mind was questioning my actions and why I wasn't putting a stop to this. I didn't have an answer and I didn't care. His lips were warm, inviting, and familiar.

That hunger that I had felt the night on the beach during the Quarter Quell returned and held me captive. He kissed me until we were out of breath and wet with tears. He started to pull away and I took a step backwards, putting distance between us as if my common sense was just now kicking in.

"What'd you do that for?" I inquired, trying to seem upset about it as I should have been. Peeta stepped back as well and held his head down, only looking up at me with his eyes as he had done earlier. Seconds ticked by before he took a quivering breath and answered, "To shut you up."


	10. More Can Be Said With Unspoken Words

(… I was so preoccupied with bashing myself that I didn't even notice that Peeta's eyes had left my own. It was so sudden that I didn't know what was going on until it was too late. His mouth was on mine and his strong hands were holding my head of messy hair. The tears were falling again but for why this time, I didn't know. I didn't know anything in that moment. What are you doing, Katniss? My own mind was questioning my actions and why I wasn't putting a stop to this. I didn't have an answer and I didn't care. His lips were warm, inviting, and familiar.

That hunger that I had felt the night on the beach during the Quarter Quell returned and held me captive. He kissed me until we were out of breath and wet with tears. He started to pull away and I took a step backwards, putting distance between us as if my common sense was just now kicking in.

"What'd you do that for?" I inquired, trying to seem upset about it as I should have been. Peeta stepped back as well and held his head down, only looking up at me with his eyes as he had done earlier. Seconds ticked by before he took a quivering breath and answered, "To shut you up." …)

I blinked through my quizzical expression, staring at him and trying to explain the conflicting things I felt. In that moment, I didn't know if he was sincerely sweet or sincerely infuriating. I don't know whether I wanted him to explain himself or do it all over again. I wasn't sure if I hated him or...

My trembling fingers were quickly clenched into tight fists because I didn't want Peeta to see it. I didn't know what that reaction out of me would mean to him. For moments he looked up at me and I stared right back without really seeing him. Then I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks in an embarrassing blush and I looked away.

Humiliated, I could only stare at the ground below his feet. I didn't want him standing before me, staring at me like that and making me feel weak and vulnerable. I clenched my jaw and, still unable to meet his eyes, ordered, "Get out."

My ears were ringing and my pulse was beating so loudly that I almost didn't hear Peeta speak. "Excuse me?" His voice was nearly disbelieving.

"Get out, Peeta." I was surprised at how calm and collected my voice sounded, although harsh in every way. I felt bad then, for talking to him like that. "Please. Please just go away." I felt another tear slide down my warm face. I wasn't being rational, and I knew it. I could blame it on my break-down over Prim and Rue, or claim that it was because of the Games as a whole. I knew the real reason though: my own emotions were a mystery to me.

I didn't hear him leave but when I glanced up again, he was gone. A slow, throbbing ache started in the pit of my stomach and grew until it became a soft sob from my mouth. I sank down onto the stair that I had been standing on and buried my face in my hands. For the second time within minutes that had felt like hours, I forced all of the tears from my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, it was bright. "Katniss?" I hadn't stirred the first time that my name was spoken. "Wake up, girl." There was a soft hand on my shoulder. Slowly, my heavy eyes blinked Sae's blurry face into view. "Are you alright, child?" I would have questioned what she was talking about if it weren't for the soreness I felt in my neck and shoulder. I sat up carefully, realizing where I was.

The same step that I had collapsed on late last night had become my bed. A very uncomfortable one, at that. "Katniss?" Sae asked once more. I stretched my shoulders, lifting my arms above my head and listening to my joints crack. "Just... Give me a minute." I got to my feet and raced up the stairs to my bedroom.

I filled my cupped hands with water and splashed it over my tear-stained face. Memories of last night were beginning to flood my mind as I raised my dripping face to the mirror. I started to question how much of it was real. I knew I had really kicked Peeta out of my house because guilt racked me from the inside and out. My fingers traveled up to press against my lips. Did that happen though? I could remember Peeta's voice asking so many times, "Real or not real?"

When I felt that I was decent enough to face Sae, I found her in the kitchen. She was in the process of sweeping the dirt that Buttercup kept dragging in. Her gray eyes flashed up to mine. "Want something to eat?" I leaned over the back of a chair that had been carelessly pushed beneath the dining table and shook my head. "I'm not hungry." Those gray eyes met mine again. Sae turned to place the broom back against the counter. "What's the matter?" She asked it casually, as if she were simply asking me how the woods were today.

"Nothing," My response was just as casual for I had grown used to giving Sae this response. Of course she knew it was a lie but most times, she knew me well enough to realize that this was my way of dropping the subject.

"It's the boy," She turned around so that her back was now facing me. "Isn't it?" It was more of a clarification than a question. I didn't answer right away but when I did, it was with another question. "How do you know that?" Now Sae turned to face me.

"You look the same as you did all those weeks ago." She was referring to my miserable days after Peeta's flashback, when he cut me out completely. I wanted to ask her how I looked different when Peeta wasn't around. Didn't I look like Katniss?

"Can I suggest something?" My eyes flashed back up to her. I was waiting for her to continue before realizing that she was waiting for me. Afraid to find my words, I simply nodded. "Don't let yourself go back to that." Her expression grew soft. "Whatever it is that went wrong, do what you're able to mend it."

I was angered at first that she immediately assumed that I was the one that needed to do the mending. It wasn't always my fault. Why am I always the one to do the apologizing?

Then I reasoned with myself. It hurt to admit it, especially to myself, but she was right. Everyone was right to point fingers at me. My decisions, my actions, hurt people. Particularly the people that I held dearest. When her phone calls were allowed to ring to the last ring, I was hurting my mother. Every time I rejected help or a meal, I was hurting Sae. I'm sure every harsh insult I shouted at Haymitch affected him when he was sober. I had hurt Gale in choosing Peeta over him. And Peeta? It seems as though I hurt him every time I'm around him.

I sighed, pushing myself away from the chair. I wish I could change it all, but it's who I am and what I've become. How am I supposed to mend the problem if the problem is myself? I didn't have all of the answers, but I knew one thing for certain: If I wanted to fix myself, I had to start by fixing Peeta because Peeta was the one thing that made me want to be better.

Several minutes later and after one too many hesitations, I was finally standing outside of my front door, staring at the front of Peeta's. I didn't know how I was even going to confront him or show my face again. I was afraid, ashamed, and for the first time while thinking of Peeta, I was nervous. I felt like I was five years old again, with pigtail braids and a gnawing fear that I wouldn't be liked. When you're five, everyone's opinion matters. As we grow, we force ourselves to focus solely on the opinions of the people that matter. Peeta was someone that mattered.

Don't, I ordered myself when tears threatened to invade my eyes. My boots trudged noisily along the street that separated our houses but at least they were carrying me forward. Nothing felt real and I wasn't sure that I wanted it to be as my knuckles lingered over the door's surface. If I had been in my right mind, I may not have found the courage to knock. When the sound rang out then fell to silence, I found myself holding my breath. I was expecting a lot of things, but I wasn't expecting to be ignored.

I raised my hand to the door to knock once more. I stood for a moment, just waiting. Nothing changed.

An image in my mind played out of Peeta sitting on the other side of the door, knowing it was my knock and therefore choosing not to answer. That same throbbing ache returned in the pit of my stomach at the thought. Peeta had always forgiven me for the wrong that I'd done. Maybe he'd finally realized that I wasn't worth all of the things I'd cost him.

Losing myself in guilt and deep thoughts, I backed away from the door and turned to meet the first stair that would carry me back to my own place. My eyes caught sight of the duo of figures in the street but didn't register in my mind until my double-take found those blue eyes that only belonged to one person in the remains of District 12.

The taller figure on the right, who I then recognized as the man from District 7 whose name I didn't know, stared down at me through dark eyes beneath a mop of mahogany hair. I realized that when I had seen him last, carrying Peeta to my dining table, I hadn't paid him much mind. I noted his pointed chin masked in dark stubble and his broad shoulders before my eyes shot back to the left of him. It was obvious he was from 7 and most likely a lumberjack or load puller like the rest of the young men, judging by his build.

He cleared his throat after a moment, making me jump, and turned to offer his right hand. "Take it easy, Mellark. Get some rest." Peeta peeled his eyes from me to shake the man's hand. "I'll work on it, Orrick. You'll hear from me soon."

The man, Orrick, gave a brisk nod and a final glance at me before turning on his heel and walking in the direction they had come from. With the company of three becoming two, it suddenly felt like the air was closing in around me. Peeta's eyes had settled on me again, standing at the bottom the stairs. I had come over with the intentions of seeing Peeta but now that he was standing before me, I wasn't sure that I wanted to be here.

In all of the silent moments and weird situations that Peeta and I had shared in the past, there wasn't one that had felt more out of place and odd as this one.

"Well say something." Peeta finally said, taking a hesitant step forward to place a hand on the railing. I would have said something but I was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than the mouth that his words had just come from. With some effort, I was able to focus on the scuffed toe of my boot. Still, I couldn't force myself to speak. "Alright, I'll start then."

I looked up just as Peeta began. "I shouldn't have done it. I know that," He blinked and paused before continuing. "But I'm not sorry that I did it." That got a response out of me.

"Why did you do it?" My voice sounded expressionless, like the recorded voices that rang out in the elevators in Panem. Peeta answered like he expected the question. "How else am I supposed to know what you feel, Katniss?"

"You could have asked me before jumping to that conclusion." I snapped back. He started to shake his head while looking down and said, "That's the problem, Katniss. You don't tell me anything. I don't know how to get an answer out of you unless I'm doing something to make you hate me."

I opened my mouth to argue my side but I couldn't think of the words to say. Was I introvert? Extremely. I didn't even know how to tell myself what I felt.

"I don't want to feel this way, Katniss." His defeated whisper matched the look in his eyes. "Please, just tell me what you want. I can take it, Katniss. Whatever it is, it's got to be better than feeling confused."

"Peeta..." How did I tell him? What would I tell him? I felt just as confused as he did. Sometimes I was convinced that I knew what the tracker jacker venom felt like, messing with your mind. Although it was messing with my emotions. Tentatively, I took a step forward.

Peeta was right; I couldn't talk about the way I felt. But I could show him as much as my confused heart would allow me to show. I didn't want to lose Peeta. He was my best friend but with him, it felt like much more than it ever had with Gale. He meant everything to me, but I didn't know how much of that was directed just toward friendship. When he hurt, I hurt. I needed him.

As I walked forward and fell into his chest, I hoped that he understood all of that. When his strong arms wrapped around me and mine clutched just as tightly around his neck, I hoped that he could understand the way I felt, even though it was still hazy to me.

**Finally, another chapter! I know it's short but I'll try to get in a longer one for you guys next time. Review, review, review and tell me what you think! Something to look forward to: I've got a few surprises in mind for the next couple of chapters. I would really like some input and ideas of things you guys would like to see happen in the future. Hope you all enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. **


	11. Dose of What the Doctor Didn't Prescribe

Days had gone by, maybe even weeks, since the incident in my front room. I wasn't keeping track because it didn't matter anymore, except for the moments when I revisited the memory.

Peeta had come for dinner each night, like I had asked him to, and arrived on time with a plate of dessert, as he had promised Sae. She enjoyed his company. He's easier on her old gray eyes than I am and he sparks a conversation that differs from our usual. I doubt that she enjoyed having him around as much as I did though.

Haymitch had even joined us one of the nights, although he was about as exciting as I was. He was reeling drunk, as usual, and didn't speak unless he was addressed. That was just fine with me.

After dinner, Peeta and I had made a routine of sitting on the porch to watch the stars. We would talk longer on some evenings and on others we would have little to say, like last night.

Peeta had bid farewell to Sae before he followed me out to the porch. Before we had even sat down, we could hear Haymitch cussing the flock of geese in the distance. After our soft laughter, it had fallen silent. I had leaned back against the railing to gaze up at the moon. It was full last night and the sky was splattered with long, silver clouds that curled up at the ends. I had turned to Peeta, about to comment on the view. His eyes were turned down though, away from the beauty in the air.

"What's wrong, Peeta?" I had asked. I still remember his rigid posture perfectly. He hadn't looked up at me when he answered, "Just tired, Katniss." He had gotten to his feet after that, wished me a good night, pulled me in for a brief hug, and stumbled away to his own porch.

I sat in my bed now, still turning that memory of last night over in my mind. I sorted through my actions and comments, wondering what I could have done to upset him this time. Even after showering and dressing for the day, I still had no answer.

I knew that I was up far too early because when I hopped down the stairs, Sae hadn't even arrived yet. So, I pulled a small loaf of bread apart and fed the cat before walking out into the cool breeze. It wasn't light yet, but I didn't want to stay in the house any longer.

As I ducked beneath the fence, I was beginning to regret not bringing my father's coat. I knew better than to fear anything in these woods, but even so, it was eerie to be the only one making a sound in the forest. Normally, when the woods fell quiet, it meant something was about to happen. It was a caution to all living things, a warning to anyone that knew the place well enough to understand. But I knew that this silence was only brought on by the early hour.

I found my huddle beneath the tree, right under the crooked branches that acted as the rest for my bow. I wouldn't be hunting today though. I just wanted to think.

Slowly, the forest came alive. Birds chirped their wake up calls to one another from their high nests and squirrels clucked from lower branches. I had learned to love these sounds at an early age.

When the sun was high enough in the sky to be noon, I finally pushed myself to my feet. The doe that I had been watching across the lake was startled by my sudden movement and turned to hop off the way she had come. My legs ached from sitting so long and while I walked toward the fence, my joints popped and cracked.

The walk home in the daylight was far more disturbing than my walk this morning because now I could see my surroundings. I keep telling myself that I'll get used to all of this one day, but I know it's a lie. It isn't as bad when I'm walking with Peeta, but we hadn't walked through the ruins of our home for some time now. Peeta had asked me to join him only a few days ago, but I declined. I hated seeing this place in the state that it was in and I knew that Peeta did too. The only difference between us is that he's willing to get over that past and find a future. And me? It feels like that past will always be a part of my future.

I will always hold on to it and I knew it. In part because my past was what had defined me. It had led me to where I am today; crunching over gravel, ash, and long forgotten tears. The other part of me held on to the past because it was where Prim lived. They all lived in the past. The future is the time that we will spend without them. If we forget our past and move on with our future, are we losing them all over again?

The slicing sound of a shovel piercing dirt pulled me out of my thoughts. I would always know that sound because it reminded me of my father. Covered from head to toe in sweat and dirt, he would dig up flowers and herbs for mother. The only recognizable feature between the grime would be his kind gray eyes.

His eyes were not the ones that stared back at me now. In a faded red shirt and work-worn jeans stood Peeta. His hair was wet and glistening in the sun, his chest rose up and fell in deep, panting breaths. The white shoes on his feet were no longer white and at the end of his splintered shovel sat bright new flowers, fine and healthy in the packed soil. My primroses.

They were not pulled up and tattered with broken leaves and tarnished petals like the last. These flowers were unbroken and perfect in every sense. Peeta had fixed them, just as he'd sworn. My primroses were mended. My Prim had returned.

"I'm sorry it took so long, Katniss." My eyes pulled themselves away to look at Peeta. "Why are you apologizing, Peeta?" I allowed my eyes to cherish the garden again. "You fixed them..." His tired eyes were still light when the side of his lips pulled up into a grin. With one step after another, I walked toward him. I guess he must have known that my tears were coming because he didn't say a word. He just let me fall into him. The only strength that I could find was in my embrace as I flung my arms around his neck. I hoped that he knew how grateful I was and that thanking him with just my words wouldn't have been enough.

...

"Where is that boy?" Sae muttered as she sat the steaming plate in the center of the table. Peeta had taken off after replacing my flowers, telling me that he wanted to get cleaned up before he came over. The sun was now setting, the meal was prepared, and still no Peeta.

"Maybe I should-" The old woman started to consider but I protested immediately, pushing myself away from the table. "It's alright, Sae. I'll run over and get him." I got to my feet and pushed my chair in to let Sae by with another plate.

"Oh! Wait, girl!" She called to me before I had reached the middle of the front room. Sae bustled around the corner with the dish that Peeta had brought desserts in last night. "Might as well return these to Mr. Mellark while you're over there." I nodded my response and took the dish into my own hands.

When I finally reached the front door, it opened for me. Haymitch stood in the doorway and halted when he noticed me. "'Scuse me, sweetheart." He flattened himself against the side so that I could slide by him. Haymitch was actually sober tonight. I guess there's a first for everything.

I looked up as I walked out. The sun hadn't completely set and the stars were already beginning to shine. It would be a good night to watch them on the porch with Peeta. I expected to see Peeta's bedroom light on, thinking he might have been showering or getting dressed. Instead, it was his kitchen light that gleamed.

I didn't bother knocking when I got to the door, although it was a slight struggle to get it open with the dish in my hands. I didn't have any trouble closing it though once I was in the house. I was swiping my shoes across the rug, ready to call into the next room when I heard them talking.

"...a couple of months or so. It hasn't been easy finding help." It was a deep voice that spoke. The messy gravel tone was so foreign to me, and yet familiar enough for me to match it with a face.

"I can't imagine anything being easy these days," This voice was immediately recognized. Peeta. "Everyone's got their own mending to do." His voice trailed and I knew Peeta well enough to know the look in his eyes, the furrow of his brows, as he said it.

"I think it's time we do something about it." It was the man from Seven. What was his name? Orrick? I took a careful step towards the kitchen, hoping for a better view. I was the silent predator that I turned into when I was in the woods.

It was the perfect angel. I stepped forward, still out of reach of the kitchen's revealing light, and saw both men. Orrick stood with his back to me, leaning on the back of a chair. Peeta's body faced me but his attention was directed elsewhere so I didn't have to worry.

Peeta began to nod, looking just behind Orrick's head at the wall. "When do we begin?" His lips were pale. Who was we? And what were they beginning? My gray eyes jumped to the dark-haired man for an answer.

Orrick sighed and scratched the side of his head. "We're scheduled for tomorrow afternoon." Peeta noticeably stiffened. Orrick must have picked up on it too because he said, "I know it's short notice, Peeta. Believe me, if I could extend it any longer, I would. I was lucky enough to convince them to postpone until tomorrow. They only did it because I mentioned your name,"

Now it was Peeta's turn to sigh. I wanted to step forward and demand to know what this was about. What was Peeta getting himself into and what was it that had to be postponed?

It took a moment for Peeta to respond. "I'll be there by noon." Now I was really frustrated. "They won't wait for you." Orrick warned, his voice somehow growing deeper. Peeta nodded once more. "I know they won't."

When Orrick moved, I nearly jumped back further into the shadows. "Don't pack light. This won't be a short trip." Trip?

Suddenly, my mind began to put two and two together. There had been trouble finding help, gone for months, trip, leaving, postponed until...tomorrow. Peeta was leaving. He was going off with this man from seven, leaving me for several months. By noon tomorrow, I'll be alone.

Crash! The dessert dish slipped through my fingers and shattered in a million colorful tragedies at my feet. Peeta's eyes snapped up and found me in the shadows. So many expressions scattered across his face in one instant. Then, "Katniss?"

I took off. "Katniss, wait!" He was yelling at me but I was already out the door, not bothering to close it behind me this time. My feet were carrying me across the street but my mind wanted to go somewhere else. I stopped before I reached the front of my own house and then sprinted to my left. The wind was whistling past my ears as my long legs flew. The patting of my feet changed when I turned off of the road of Victor's Village because I was now on new terrain.

My thoughts were racing as fast as my body. No, no, no. You can't, Peeta. Don't. When I finally stopped, it was only because of the aching burn in my lungs as they clawed for more air. My knees crumpled and met the hard ground but I didn't feel it. My panting sounded ragged and foreign, like some kind of sick animal.

The braid in my hair had come loose, allowing large strands to blow around me in the breeze. It was falling apart like I was. It should have been too dark for me to see anything, but when I glanced up, I could make out the gentle curve of the used-to-be-road and the stubs of familiar trees that once were. It was all familiar to me, even in the unrecognizable state that it was in.

I raised my eyes to look ahead of me. In that uplifted piece of earth before me laid to rest the foundation of my childhood home. The patched roof probably caved in its tragic ending, filling the tiny rooms with its contents. I'm sure the walls, taller than they were wide, had slowly disappeared towards the creaky floorboards. The tree that mother had planted when she was my age had flamed down its wide trunk until nothing remained but the uneven stump.

In more of a crawl than a walk, I got closer to the old tree's remains and pulled myself up until I was sitting on top. The stump was uncomfortable and cold, but I didn't care. I felt weak, but not from running. I was chilled to the bone, and it wasn't from the cool breeze.

Where would Peeta go? It bothered me, this thought of him leaving. If I was broken each time he avoided me for a day or so, what would it do to me if he really wasn't there?

More importantly, why would he want to go? I know that Peeta would jump for anyone that needed him. After all, isn't that what he was doing for that man from Seven? He'd mentioned that it had been difficult finding help. Why Peeta would help is something that I can understand... but for months?

My elbows rested on my knees and it wasn't long before I was cradling my face within my palms. It had to be me. What had I done?

That question lingered in my thoughts. What had I done? "Everything," This word came from my lips to answer the question in my head. It was true. Everything that has upset him in the past was brought on by me. And what had I done to fix it? My voice wavered a defeated, "Nothing..."

Very faintly, I heard my own name. The little strength that I had was enough to raise my head. I wasn't sure that I had heard anything at all until it came through the darkness again.

"Katniss!" It was nearly a whisper in the distance, but my name nonetheless. "Katniss, please!" The voice beckoned in a broken melody. I didn't call back.

Minutes went by. Ten, fifteen, twenty. I sat, listened to the voice. At times it would sound as if they were coming closer, and then moments later sound like they had gone the other way. Moments ago, I heard the voice from just down the road. I knew what was down there. The fence; my door into the woods.

I heard their footsteps long before I heard their voice. "Katniss..." They called once more. Cracked, worried. Two, three steps more. "Katniss?" Surprised, relieved. His sigh said everything that his voice had. He came towards me in a hurried stumble.

I could see his arm extend from the corner of my eye. When his hand touched my shoulder, it was blazing hot. Or maybe I was freezing cold. I flinched, "Don't, Peeta." His hand wavered. "Katniss, it's freezing out here. C'mon, let's go home." I shook my head and answered his plea with a question. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His hand finally fell away. I couldn't see him through the black of the night but I could hear him drop to the ground beside the stump and cross his legs. "Because I didn't want this to happen."

There were long silences between our responses. "Why, Peeta?" He knew what I was asking. "They're trying to rebuild the Capitol, get rid of what was and start again." Peeta took a deep breath. "Orrick came to me, wanted me to-"

"That night." I cut him off. "You were with him that night." I could feel Peeta nod next to me. "That's the night he asked me to join them."

It explained some of the things that he'd said and done in the last couple of days, why his mood had been so unpredictable. My mouth was dry and my lips felt cracked. I swallowed loudly, hoping that I could still find my voice.

"Is it really so bad here, Peeta?" My question didn't sound like a question at all because I felt like I had answered it before I had asked. I couldn't blame Peeta for wanting to get away from this place. From me. I knew that I shouldn't be blaming Peeta. It didn't stop me from doing it though.

The time that it took him to answer made it worse for me. He surprised me with a question when he spoke next. "Katniss, what do you want out of life?" I was glad when he continued because I wouldn't have known how to answer.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my days painting and frosting petals on cakes and-and. . ." His words struggled to leave his lips. He sighed in frustration. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Katniss."

All of those feelings of grief and worry boiled inside me until it was masked by anger. I shot up to my feet. "Fine, then! Go! Go and find yourself, Peeta and leave me here with your canvases and flowered cupcakes!" Hot tears welled over the brims of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as fast as my temper was flying. His hand shot up and clasped mine. My attempts at jerking away were feeble and pathetic, displaying my hopelessness like an open book.

He pulled me to the cold ground where he was sitting and curled me over his lap and against his chest. "Katniss, I-" He rested his chin on top of my head. "I didn't think you would see it that way." The sky grew continuously darker as it closed around us and gave us our space.

"What's left for me here if you're running around the Capitol?" I dried my face with the ends of my sleeves although it was no use. They were quickly replaced by fresh tears. "Haymitch and I will end up killing each other. And Sae will have nobody but those stupid geese to take care of," I sniffed. I could feel Peeta fighting a smile. "You forgot about the cat."

I pushed at his arm. "You're not helping, Peeta. I'm being serious. This place will be a wreck without you and so will I."

He was quiet, all but the sound that he made while pushing the loose hair from the side of my face. His cheek pressed against the side of my head then and his lips were at my ear. "Come with me, then."

To the Capitol? It didn't sound like a place that I wanted to be right now. Or ever, for that matter. What did I have to lose by going there, though? It was better than staying here and losing Peeta.

"That doesn't sound like something Dr. Aurelius would approve of." I said, imagining his reaction at hearing that Peeta and I had decided to visit the Capitol so early in our healing. Peeta snorted and shook his head. "Since when do you listen to him anyway?"

...

The top of my travel bag fell into place, fitting snugly over the supplies that sat beneath. The bag was a loan from Haymitch, which he retrieved from his closet last night after hearing our news. We had finally walked through my front door and found Haymitch and Sae waiting at the table. Each of them were shocked to hear that we were leaving for so long and at such short notice.

I lifted the bag from my bed and smoothed the sheets over where they had crinkled. I stepped through my bedroom door and glanced back. It would be a little while before I would see it again.

All of my packed belongings were placed neatly in the front room in a small pile. Just as Orrick had warned Peeta not to do, I had packed light. There were only a few given things that I found necessary to bring, besides the essentials. It wasn't long before Sae was walking through the door.

I had asked her for only one thing: to throw scraps out for Buttercup when she got the chance. There was no sense in bringing the cat with me. He would be miserable away from home. Sae had agreed to it and I told her that the house was there for whenever she wished to stay.

"The boy's out front," Sae said with a smile, although it didn't reach her eyes. I hated seeing her upset that we were leaving.

"Thank you, Sae." I said, slinging the bag's strap over my shoulder. As I passed her, I stopped to hug her. "It's only for a couple of months." I reminded her. Those wise hands of hers patted my back after a moment but she didn't say anything.

When my eyes found Peeta, he was standing in the road. He was facing his house with his bag in one hand and the other running fingers through his hair. It wasn't long before he turned and found me. Whatever he had been feeling before seemed to vanish and a smile quickly filled his features.

"Ready?" He questioned with one eyebrow hitched slightly higher than the other.

I sighed. "As I'll ever be."

Haymitch walked us to the waiting train on the far side of the town's ruins without a whiff of alcohol on his breath. None of us said a word while we walked, until we were ready to load our belongings.

"Listen, you kids be careful out there. Not everybody's gonna be your biggest fan," Haymitch warned us, although his eyes lingered on me meaningfully towards the end. Peeta was the one that spoke first.

"We'll be alright, Haymitch. I don't think they can throw much at us that we haven't already seen." He offered his hand to him then in a departing handshake. "Take care of yourself," Were Peeta's final words before Orrick whisked him away to discuss arrival plans.

Haymitch and I just stood for a beat, watching Peeta walk away. I was the one to break the silence. "Keep Sae good company. She doesn't have anybody but you now." I meant it soft but my voice still spoke strong, like I was telling my mother to be there for Prim. Haymitch nodded with a sarcastic, "Yes, Ma'am." I tried lightening my voice but it was him that spoke up next.

"I mean it, what I said before. You watch yourself. People aren't about to forget what went down at the Capitol and not all of 'em like it." I didn't respond immediately. I knew he was right.

"Thanks, Haymitch." I turned to face him but didn't know how to proceed. A handshake didn't seem appropriate like it did with Peeta. Haymitch walked toward me. "Yeah, yeah. Now go on before you miss the train." He reached down for my bag at my feet and slipped the strap on my shoulder before patting me on the back.

I smiled and did as he said, turning to join Peeta at the entrance. "Hey, one more thing!" Haymitch called over the loud humming of the train preparing its depart. "When they're done fixin' up the Capitol, you tell 'em District 12 could use some shinin' up too!"

Once Peeta and I were on board, a woman came to collect our bags to store them and show us to the dining cubby. Orrick sat in a wide chair at the end of a table when I entered behind Peeta. "Well, Katniss," He said in that gravel-like tone of his. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

"I'm sure it wasn't exactly how you thought it would unfold." I said in return, thinking back to my dramatic stung with the dessert dish. He chuckled and lifted himself from the chair.

"You two might as well make yourselves comfortable. I'm sure you remember how long this ride to the Capitol lasts." With that, he excused himself and left us to build our plates of biscuits and cheeses.

That evening, when the passing scenery darkened, I followed Peeta down one of the train corridors. He found a door to his right and slid it open. In an all too familiar way, he allowed me inside first. I was back in a time, not too long ago but forever away, when Peeta and I were cradling each other to sleep and facing our nightmares in a compartment on a train, much like this one. As if it were habit, I curled up against the pillow which was placed right next to Peeta's and closed my eyes to fall into my past. When my eyes opened next, I would be at the Capitol to try and fix what I helped destroy.

/

**I hope everyone had a Happy Holiday Season! I wanted to get a new post in before the new year, so here it is. All 4,435 words of it. I really hope that I haven't lost you guys with this story yet and I do hope that at least some of you still enjoy reading it. Some of you guys are so loyal and I appreciate it. Alright, that's enough from me for now. Remember, any suggestions or ideas, just post it in the reviews or go ahead and send me a PM. Love you all and have a happy start to your 2013!**


	12. We've Made it This Far

I woke to a tingling sensation in the tips of my right hand's fingers, and a slow burn in the same shoulder. My body was lethargic and weighed down with exhaustion but I couldn't ignore my arm's position any longer. Slowly, and unwillingly, I slid it out from underneath the pillow that my face rested on. I flexed my hand at my side but kept my eyes shut until I realized that the sheets next to me were far too cold. And vacant.

With some effort, I rolled to my back and turned my head. I didn't find what I was looking for though. The spot in which Peeta had occupied was ruffled and empty, illuminated when the moon looked between the quickly-passing trees outside the train's window. I took a fistful of the cold sheets in my numb hand before sitting up.

There was a brief moment where I contemplated, looking from the door to the bed. Maybe Peeta had decided to wander the train cars, although I had never pegged him as an insomniac. The other part of my brain wondered if something had come up and if Orrick had peeked in and asked Peeta to step out for a moment.

Needless to say, I went snooping anyway. My bare feet padded across the cold floor to the door, and I swung it wide to look both ways down the corridor. To my right, there was nothing but a supply closet and storage area and so the decision to continue to my left was made quickly. It felt like it was only minutes ago that I had been walking down towards the room with Peeta, but I was sure that I had slept longer than my drooping eyes made me believe.  
It didn't occur to me until minutes in that it might be a problem not knowing which room or even which compartment Orrick was staying in. I told myself that I was up anyway, so I might as well keep going.

Peeking through open rooms and listening for whispered voices didn't get me any further, however. I stopped when the end of the compartment met me. It wasn't like Peeta could go anywhere; we were on a speeding train in the middle of nothing. If something important had beckoned him away, I was sure that he would have at least let me know. Who knew? Maybe he was an insomniac after all, and a stroll around the train was what he needed.  
Before I started back to the room though, one more place crossed my mind. The dining cubby. Peeta hadn't eaten much earlier. He could have walked down for a quick snack.

There was a light on in the dining cubby when I came to the door. It was dim though, and one that I was sure stayed on even when the room was empty. If I hadn't taken a second look into the right corner, I would have missed him standing behind the chair.  
I let myself in and smiled. "You don't have to eat in the dark, Peeta." I was so busy searching for the switch that I didn't realize just how wrong everything was.

When my fingers found it and the light flickered on, he still hadn't moved. His back was to me and his head was lowered. The muscles in his broad shoulders were pulled so tight that their definition could be seen through his shirt. His arms were in front of him, leading to his white-knuckled hands that clutched the back of a silver chair.

I was afraid to say anything at that moment, so I kept my mouth shut. I waited for him to turn and acknowledge me but it didn't happen, so I took a hesitant step toward him with a whisper of his name lingering in my throat.

He heard my approach and his right hand shot out to the side of him with his palm facing me. The movement was so fast that it made me jump. "Don't," His voice ordered, seemingly too loud in the once silent setting. The arm that he held out to warn me not to move was quivering.

Immediately, I froze in my place. All that could be heard were my shallow breaths as I gauged his stone posture. Everything about him was strained, every muscle flexed. I didn't know what to do with myself then, but stand there and stare like a fool.

Peeta was dragging in ragged breaths that would catch at the same time that his hand would clench into a fist. I think he was afraid to move too.  
When his arm began to return to the back of the chair, I hesitated with my foot sliding forward just a little further. His breath caught again.

"Don't, Katniss. Get away from me."

Peeta had never growled at me like he did then. His voice was dangerously low and every bit of it rang out like a threat. His hand immediately closed around the chair again and he let out a quivering breath.

I knew then that he was trying to fight it. I could almost see the venom attacking his mind like it was attacking his body, but he was trying to ward it off. He knew who I was. Peeta knew that it was me standing there and he knew that everything in him then wanted me dead. Real and not real, Peeta was battling himself. Or rather, he was battling the Peeta that the Capitol created.

I was sure that there was a reason that he didn't turn to see me. It was the same reason that I didn't speak and allow him to hear my voice. The walls would come crumbling down and crush all of his restraint. We would be back to square one then, with bruises on my neck. Or worse.

Things grew quiet suddenly, like the way it does in the forest before I release the arrow or like the way it would in the arena, just before the burst of the cannon would follow a scream. I couldn't hear him breathing; I could only see the slight rise and fall of his frame. The muscles in his shoulders released and slowly, Peeta raised his head until he was staring straight before him. Some might have assumed that the worst was over, that Peeta was himself again. I knew better.

Seconds ticked, allowing the 'fight or flight' to bubble within me. There was never a choice though. I would always choose flight when it came to him. Somewhere inside Peeta, a haunting voice was scraped from the depths to muster one word.

Darkly, he gave me another order. "Run."

And I ran.

My fingers grasped the door frame and I swung myself into the room before flinging the door shut behind me. I don't know how long I stood there with my forehead against the door, raking in ragged breaths and listening.

The hall outside the door was silent though. Peeta hadn't followed me; that much was clear. My guard slowly fell away and I turned, with my back against the door, and slid down into a sitting position. I folded my arms over the tops of my knees, drooped my head to rest on them, and willed my thoughts away. I didn't want to worry about what would come out of this. I didn't want to remember the last time that it had happened. I wanted to sleep it all away and after a few minutes, that's exactly what I did.

A creak. That's what brought me back. A creak in the hall from quiet footsteps. I listened for the stumble, the slight imperfection due to an artificial leg that would assure me of who it was. They were already too close though, and their next step carried them right outside the door. I raised my head to stare in front of me while my ears worked to hear their next move.

I expected a knock, or maybe for the doorknob to just twist open. Neither came though. My first reaction to that was thinking of Peeta standing outside the door, fighting against his own urge to open the door and attack. Maybe his flashback hadn't ended.

After hearing his hand rest softly on the center of the door though, I realized that my original reasoning couldn't be true. He was Peeta. The _real_ Peeta, and he wasn't warding off a flashback like he had been earlier. He was hesitating.

Then he whispered from the other side of the door. "Katniss?"

My own voice, louder than a whisper but hoarse, answered in reply. "Peeta?"

He didn't waste any time after he heard me. His next question was immediate and full of concern. "Are you alright?" If it had been any time other than that, I might have rolled my eyes at the question.

"Peeta, I'm fine." I thought about standing up and opening the door, letting him in and telling him to sleep on it until the morning. As much as I wanted to crawl back into bed though, I stayed where I was on the floor. I heard him sigh then, and the door shook slightly against my back. Then I could hear the fabric of his shirt gliding down to the same spot that my shoulders were resting. I imagined he was sitting just as I was against the door. Somehow, then, I knew what he would say before the words even left his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss. . ." Nobody apologized like Peeta did. The words meant the same thing to everybody, but the way Peeta said them made them so different. He was always sincere and, although I couldn't see them then, I knew his eyes were speaking too.

I would have told him not to be sorry. It was an argument that wasn't worth the time though. We had been down that road plenty of times before, and no matter how many times I would counter it, he would insist that he needed to apologize to me. So instead, I suggested something different.

"Peeta, why don't you come inside?" I made to get up and onto my feet but he countered that too. "Not now, Katniss." I let my head fall against the door with a soft thud. He must have heard my silent question because after a minute, he said, "Just sit with me for a little while. I'm not sure I'm ready yet."

Again, his whispered words were sincere. I sat there, just as he had asked. The gears in my mind spun in the darkness and I'm sure, on the other side of the door, his did too. I kept thinking about his honesty and the way that he was able to say just about anything to me. Examples of that skipped through my thoughts and without really thinking about it, I decided to be sincere with him.

"Please don't push me away again." I said, barely above a whisper. It was a confession of sorts. A confession of one of the things that I feared. It was also a plea. And it went unanswered.

He didn't say anything and I wondered afterwards if he had heard me at all. I wondered if he had fallen asleep in between and if I was just talking to myself. My thoughts worried that his silence was an answer in itself. In my heart though, I wanted to believe that he had heard it and his silence was simply him considering it.

When I opened my eyes next, the room was no longer dark. The sun's rays danced through the window and warmed my skin. I straightened out of the slouch that I had fallen into against the door and winced when I moved my head. That hadn't been the best night's sleep, but it hadn't been the worst I'd ever had either.

I half expected to find Peeta propped against the other side of the door, still fast asleep. When I opened the door, however, the hall was empty.  
I slid back into the room and picked out something to wear. I stuffed the clothes under one arm and carried them into the small restroom. I had just placed my supplies on the counter and turned the water on to splash it over my face when there was a knock at the door.

Quickly, I shut the water off and rounded the corner. Orrick's dark eyes, closer than I had been expecting, looked up when I opened the door. "Good morning," His voice, dark as every other feature of him, greeted me. Everything about Orrick was professional in a very official way. The way he stood in a rigid posture in the doorway, the way he spoke every word.

"'Morning." I responded. One side of his mouth pulled up in a small, friendly grin. I didn't like it. I had grown used to Peeta's full, bright smile and anything short of that had no positive effect on me. "We'll be arriving shortly. I thought I might remind you to meet us in the front carriage." I nodded idly in response. "Thanks, Orrick." My thoughts returned to the supplies that were still sitting on the counter. "I'll be out in a minute." I nearly asked him where Peeta was, but bit my lip.

He gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, walking back down the hall with the same rigid posture and straight shoulders. There was something in Orrick that took me back to a time and reminded me of Gale.

When I was washed up and at least presentable, I let the door shut behind me. I couldn't ignore the twist in my stomach at the thought of where we were. As I walked towards the front carriage, I could feel that the train's velocity had decreased dramatically. I was reminded of it again when I passed the nearest window and could actually make out the details outside of it instead of seeing nothing but a blur. I reached the front carriage and the thoughts that I had been trying to bury with distractions came rushing forward. The image of Peeta standing behind the chair, arms strained at the back, trickled behind my eyes as I entered the carriage.

His broad back was to me just as it had been last night. I walked in easily with my eyes trained on him. For a moment, I wondered if he would even say anything to me. Orrick stepped out from around Peeta and into my view. "Just in time."

I stopped at the bar to pull a chair out, and Peeta visibly stiffened. He didn't turn around completely, but his head had slightly cocked in my direction. Orrick sat his mug down on the end of the counter. "I'll make sure our bags are brought up front," He leaned to glance out the window. "By the looks of it, we've got no more than ten minutes." With that, he was off again.

The door clicked back into place and we stayed as we were. Worry found its way back into the pit of my stomach. I could hear Sae's voice telling me, "Don't let yourself go back to that." And I didn't want to go back to the days that Peeta avoided me at all costs. Nothing had happened; Peeta had fought the flashbacks. I realized then that I was so preoccupied worrying that he would shut me out to even notice what Peeta had accomplished. He was able to see the reality when his mind had taken him to that realm of lies.

Suddenly, he turned in my direction. His eyes focused on the floor briefly before traveling up to level with my own. He was an open book. Innocent looking and apologetic with the crease between his eyebrows.

"Don't say it," I warned softly with a shake of my head. I didn't wait for his reaction. "I know you're sorry, Peeta. You don't have to say it." I came to the conclusion long ago that Peeta was apologetic far too often. He didn't say anything and just looked at me, so I hopped off the chair. Originally, I had it in mind that I would walk up to him, but thought better of it and stopped short to grab a plate from the counter. I decided that Peeta would come around when he was ready.

I helped myself to some of the pastries that the center of the table offered, although they had nothing on the sweets that Peeta often made for us. He stood in that same place a while longer before he took a seat at the table himself, although it happened to be on the opposite end from me. Then Orrick was gathering us again, shoving bags into our hands and shooing us towards the exit.

The train was at a slow crawl as it grew closer and closer to its destination. I could see the buildings and monuments out of the windows. Or, what was left of them. It seemed as though parts of the Capitol had held an uprising of its own. Suddenly, I was well aware of where we were and what we were about to do.  
"Orrick," I turned to say before he had a chance to disappear again. "How many people know we're coming?" A new realization of Haymitch's warning had struck me as the brakes brought us to a complete stop, other than the spinning in my head.

Orrick let his head fall slightly to one side and he let out a sigh. The look that he gave me in that moment was one that you might give a child after they ask you the same question over and over. "Katniss," He said very matter-of-factly. "Don't worry."

I couldn't decide what bothered me more; the fact that he didn't give me a straight answer, or the look on his face. That thought was quickly forgotten when I heard the train release a great _whoosh_ of steam and the door was being slid open. I was taken back to a time long ago, when Peeta and I had been in this same situation. Except, the faces that we met were smiling then. They were faces of District 12 grinning up at their victors  
Fingertips were at the back of my hand and I didn't need to look to know who it was. I accepted Peeta's large hand and took it into my own. And just like that, we walked off of the train as we did before while I came to the silent conclusion that history did, in fact, repeat itself.

I wish it wouldn't.

* * *

**I know this one is terribly short, and it really didn't take us much further into the story. I felt like I had kept you guys waiting for far too long though, and so I took a portion out of the longer part that I've been writing and decided to make it a chapter. **

**While I have you guys here, I figure I might as well share a little news. ****I've decided to give all of my loyal readers a little taste of what's coming up in the next few chapters of Katniss and Peeta's story. **

**First of all, more romance because some of you have requested/demanded it. ;)**

**Some of our favorite characters will be coming back. (I won't give names, but I'd love to hear about who you're hoping to see return.)**

**And what did Peeta bring with him to the Capitol?**

**Hopefully, those things excite you guys just a little bit. Also, I would love to hear what kind of things you guys think will or should take place in the Capitol while Peeta and Katniss are there. Big thanks to all of you once again. Old readers, new readers, and _especially_ reviewers!**


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